


Martyr

by HappyDagger



Series: Never Let Me Down Again [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Bondage, Cages, Childhood Trauma, Cock Cages, Daddy Issues, Disassociative Episodes, Drug Abuse, Drug-Induced Sex, Epilepsy, F/M, Flashbacks, Forced Bonding, Forced Dependency, Forced Eye Contact, Forced Orgasm, Gaslighting, Humiliation, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Knifeplay, M/M, Masochistic Theon, Non-Linear Narrative, Obsession, Panic Attacks, Poor Theon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Psychological Torture, Ramsay is his own warning, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Reluctant Masochist, Slurs, Stalking, Suicidal Thoughts, Thramsay - Freeform, Torture, black outs, may be triggering, reluctant submissive, submissive Theon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 23:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 108
Words: 164,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2525138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyDagger/pseuds/HappyDagger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This poem by the fictionally terrifing & truly lovely <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/nanjcsy">nanjcsy</a>, who encourages me and inspired me with her work- especially <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1995774/chapters/4323792">Your Own Personal Bully </a>, helps set the tone.</p><p>and here it is again. i am running away and the monster chases me.<br/>i always run in the end, i have to, because if i stay<br/>so i am running from him, running from me,<br/>i am always the prey, he is always the hunter<br/>and he always catches me<br/>if it were just him, i would want him to catch me<br/>but its the monster too<br/>and he will eat everything i am<br/>so i run faster because that is a bad thing<br/>but my body will slow down and betray me<br/>then my mind will think, yes just eat me<br/>he is so close now and i am so scared<br/>the trees try to knock me down and thorns scratch at me<br/>everything, even the wind is against me<br/>nothing wants to save me<br/>i run and i am so scared, so afraid,<br/>nothing wants to love me<br/>but what crashes behind me, i run harder,<br/>i am so scared, everything is against me<br/>oh please let him catch me</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fall Into My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ramsay, do you know why someone is throwing glass bottles at my door at _one o'clock in the morning_?"

He smiled at his computer screen then seamlessly spun around into an appropriately serious face before meeting his father's unamused glare. "No, but I'll take care of it for you."

 

Ramsay ran downstairs like it was Christmas morning and threw his door open. A broken bottle was rolling away from his feet. The boy's slight frame cast a long shadow past the gate at the bottom of the lawn. He was waving his hands over his head, and his shadow fingertips swept across Ramsay's feet.

"HEY!" The boy yelled, but it sounded like a yelp. Ramsay's dark faced warmed with an eager grin; he  _loves_  surprises.

 

"Hello, puppy. Are you lost? Did you really come find me?" Ramsay's agile fingers slipped around the black iron bars. He rolled his forehead on the cool metal, watching the silly thing.

"Yeah, yeah? Guess WHAT? Fuck you! That's what!" The little boy stumbled a step back then to the side picked up another bottle from the driver's seat of his piece of shit car and hurled it at Ramsay's face. It broke on bars in front of his shoulder. He didn't even flinch. He just laughed. It made Theon crazy. He smashed a bottle on the curb and held the shattered neck in his hand. "Come out here then! Come out here and DO IT!"

This was interesting. Ramsay walked slowly towards entrance running his fingers across the fence. "Do  _what_ , pet?"

Theon followed him on the other side. Only black bars zipping by broke their locked stares. Crisp leaves flew on lazy zephyrs at Theon's feet. They crunched under Ramsay's boots. The air was cold, clear, and smelled of autumn's sweet decay. The dark sprawling estate looming behind Ramsay made it's own threats, and here was it's monster to keep them.

Theon pointed a finger at him. His lips curled as he spat out, "Do NOT call me that. My name is THEON; hear that? Get it? Do you get it? THEON, and fuck you!"

"If I didn't know you better, I might think you were a little drunk," Ramsay laughed at him. This is not what Theon wanted. He had to try harder.

"Shut up! Just shut up! I'm fucking- I am the one telling YOU the things now!" Ramsay reached the entrance. He was entering a code. The door would open soon.  _Fuck it, do it now._  "I hate you. I hate your eyes. I'd give anything to have never met you."

"Aw, don't say things you can't take back, love." His voice had dropped. He'd finally stopped laughing. The door opened. Theon took a step back without meaning to, but his determination didn't fail him. Ramsay came close to him, studying him with eyes like snow that was muddied then frozen. Theon pulled a handgun out of his pocket. "I have to admit, you are full of surprises. You're the most fun I've ever had. Do... you do know you're holding that wrong, right?"

"Aren't you ever afraid? Even for a little of a second? Have you ever felt any feelings? What are you? Yes, I'm not as stupid as you think I look. YOU are stupid. The gun is for you." He held it out and Ramsay accepted with a creeping smile. "So DO IT. Get it over with, stop fucking around, just fucking do it. Wait-" he lit a cigarette, still holding the broken bottle in his right hand. He took a deep drag, exhaled before his personal firing squad. Closed his eyes and raised his middle finger, cigarette still in his mouth, broken bottle still in his right hand. "Ok. Do it."

He heard the safety click off. He felt the cold metal rest on his forehead. Theon swallowed the lump in his throat and felt at peace at last. He exhaled slowly, " _Thank you._ "

Right in his ear, "Bang."

"Common!" He growled. The cigarette was pulled out of his mouth. He opened his eyes. Ramsay's nose was nearly touching his. "Jesus!" He started and stumbled back landing hard on his right elbow.

Ramsay sunk laughing, hardly able to breathe. Even his  _laugh_  was full of malice, like demented high-pitched barking.

Theon sat up and tried to steady himself. He was so close. He couldn't just walk away and wait for another sun to rise and show him his world in ruins. He stood and walked over to Ramsay, still incapacitated with laughter on the sidewalk. Ramsay was maybe an inch shorter than him, but he much broader, more solid; he was a man already. Theon never would be. He kicked Ramsay in the side. "Come on! Isn't this what you want?"

Ramsay sat up and tried to regain composure. "You are so fucking ridiculous. You're my favorite person. Who's going to entertain me if you're dead? What do I want with your corpse?" He smiled up at Theon like a child. Ramsay could see Theon treading in confusion. "Sit down. Tell me why you've been crying."

"Shut up. I don't want to talk... you're... you're not going to do it?" Crestfallen, he looked around for another answer but found only trees, a house he hated, and an empty road. Large quick fingers choked his wrist and pulled him to the curb. He sat touching Ramsay's shoulder. He was lost, even his eyes had no safe place to rest. He curled into resting his elbows on his knees. He tried to blink away the fog in his eyes. The smashed bottle finally fell from his hand and rolled quietly to a stop. Nothing. All his sound and fury; not even an echo to be remembered by.

"You know what's pretty funny," Theon continued, still looking ahead at nothing in particular. "My mother doesn't remember me, my foster mother wants me dead, and my father's just relieved it's not him they're coming for, but  _you_  don't want to kill me. You want me to sit down and talk. Talk... is this even a life I have? I don't get it; not anything." He looked at his hand, watching all his fingers move in the yellow streetlight.

"You think you came here because you wanted me to kill you? You had a loaded gun in your pocket, if you wanted to die, you'd be dead. You came here," his warm heavy arm slid around Theon's back, "so I would stop you. What did you tell yourself, little boy? That you would die like a man tonight? Did you just want someone to tell you not to go? I know you have lots of little girls to call. Did you come to me because you're tired and you need be taken care of?" His sweet voice pulled Theon a little closer.

Theon saw Ned Stark looking at him.  _This is the way it has to be. You always knew what this was. I never let you forget._  He saw Cat Stark, always looking at him as a rat scurrying among her precious children. She was eager for him to die, just like his miserable father. So here he was at the monster's door looking for death, and it wasn't given.

"They're going to kill me if you don't. Soon." They didn't sound like Theon's words. Though he always knew somewhere this was a possibility, it didn't seem to his life he was talking about.

"Come eat with me inside." Ramsay rubbed his back. His hand ran up to his neck and into his hair.

Theon shivered at his horrible hand on his body, but also needed  _someone_  to care. He needed it beyond reason. He felt he would kneel before Satan himself just to have one person see him for who he was and not wish his light snuffed out. Why was he here? Where else could he go? "To your dungeon," he tried to sneer but was too hollow to spit. 

Ramsay's hand wrapped around the base of Theon's skull and pulled it to his chest. Theon didn't fight. "You don't have a choice," Ramsay whispered. He rested his cheek in messy waves of sandy hair, "I won't let you go, you know that, and I won't let them hurt you. You're not allowed to die."

Theon collapsed into weeping and let himself be held. He didn't want to want it. He _needed_ it.

As sick as it felt, death couldn't have warmer embrace.


	2. Children Waiting for the Day They Feel Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Alright, now one with just the family."

The photographer gestured for friends and help to get out of the way. Theon let his eyes wander as he faded into the background. He never had a birthday party in his life; he just had to smile through other people's. He'd finally gotten a car from his uncle last winter on his birthday; a two-door Honda. It was a steely blue, sleek, and brand new. He didn't even get to sit inside and smell it. Even though it was taken away, the gesture meant everything.

***

"But it's mine! You have no right to take it!" He had chased after Ned nearly tearing his hair out as his car was being towed away. "It's from _my family_!"

"That's why I can't let you accept it, you know how they paid for it. That's not how I raised you, and that is not where your loyalty lies. If I suspected that, I'd have to severely restrict the privileges I allow you."

"But he's NOT a Greyjoy! He's not a criminal; he's a patron of the arts for fuck's sake-" he stopped when Ned turned around to face him. He didn't strike Theon but seemed terribly disappointed in him. Even through the heat of his anger, it hurt. He looked down and away from Ned's gaze.

"Go to your room and stay there. We'll talk about this later," Ned said solemnly and walked away.

Ned bought him a car, a stupid beater beneath a Greyjoy but maybe that was the point. He told Theon he could 'work it off' by helping Ned after school. Only Theon _had_ been working for Ned since he was eight years old. The piece of shit car could only be worth a thousand, but the work would never fucking stop. Still, he had smiled at Ned with all the charm and patience he could muster and said, "I'd be happy to."

***

"Where you going, Theon?" Robb asked sitting on the porch.

"Just out," Theon said. His smile dropped as he turned to leave.

"You didn't even tell me 'happy birthday'," Robb said dryly.

He rolled his eyes and sighed before grinning over his shoulder. "It's fine, Robb, I sang it to you with my beautiful voice. Besides, _everyone_ else did."

That night Ned told his children, staff, and Theon that Governor Baratheon would be coming. Ned had worked as a private investigator since he left the Army, but his childhood friend and fellow former officer, Robert Baratheon, had left the Army to rise to Governor and had wanted Ned by his side for quite a while now.

 The Stark children hadn't seen too much of life and went about their whining and bickering without giving the visit much thought beyond what they could get out of it. Arya wanted adventure, Sansa a husband, Bran a good story, Rickon thought he would get a toy from his 'uncle', Jon wanted Ned to be convinced to let him enlist, Robb wanted to be let in on the dealings between the Governor and his father. Only Theon seemed to know what was coming, and how dangerous it could be. He remembered fearing the Lannisters and Baratheons as a child. Robert was no 'uncle' of his. He wished to stay with Ned, though feared it wasn't possible. Theon's birth family was more hated in the Capital than anywhere else.

As soon as the help was dismissed so the family could talk, Theon went to the basement. He had moved from working on the speed bag to pounding the large black heavy bag hanging in the corner when Arya came in. "Show me how to do that," she demanded, puffing out her little chest.

"I don't have to take orders from you, princess, at least not yet," he tried to say kindly, but his teasing was always bitter with her. Why did they all have to ask things of him at every turn? If it was a job he'd have shifts and they would end, if it were his family he could tell people to fuck off, but it wasn't either one. He tried to tell himself to bond with little Arya, make a friend where he could, but it was hard. She had a wide-open life in front of her, and she would do great things with it. This free woman with the bright future, a quick mind, and large, dark, serious eyes, was still a child and it made him seethe inside when she tried to order him around.

"Don't call me that! That is not me. That is NOT my name! I'm no stupid princess!" She yelled sticking her little finger up at him.

"It's just a word. I'll leave you alone, so you can help yourself," he said as warmly as he could. He rubbed her hair and walked away.

"You're always leaving," she said. He almost thought for a _second_ she said it sadly, but when he turned to look she appeared disgusted with him. He grinned and went back to his room.

 _Does anyone look forward to school like I do? What the fuck will I do without it?_ He wondered, fleeing to his room. He couldn't wait to shut the door and close himself up in his own quiet space.

"Theon."

He didn't dare clench his fists. He simply exhaled and closed his eyes before turning. "Yes, sir?"

"Come talk with me," Ned told him. Theon followed him to his office. Ned closed the door and motioned for Theon to sit. "I'm going to the capital, as I'm sure you've figured out."

"Yes, sir," he said sitting. He dared to hope Ned might be asking him to come. Ned sat at his desk and cleared his throat. "Robb is going to run the house while I'm gone." Theon's heart sank. "I need you to help him as you have helped me. You're very bright, Theon, you know more about the world than he does. Help him, and listen to my wife. I noticed you left the party early, as always." Ned smiled slightly but there was a real concern in his eyes.

"Yes, sir. I just like being alone sometimes," his eyes wandered from Ned's and he blushed. He knew where this was going.

"You still shut everyone out. You know Robb wants to be closer to you, Rickon and Bran need guidance, Arya looks up to you, Sansa needs someone to keep boys away." They both smiled at bit at that.

"Yes, sir, I'll do everything I can for them. You know... Jon and Robb... the little ones really like their brothers more..." Theon blinked to clear his eyes and swallowed hard. _Everyone hates me._

"Do you know what Robb asked me? About you?" Ned's face warmed with a patient smile. "If you could earn your way to being a Stark. Do you think you would like that?"

 _No, respect who you are, say no-_ "Yes! Yes, did he really ask that? Would you?" Theon remembered himself. He sat up straighter. His eyes raced around the room, he was too embarrassed to look at Ned.

"You would have to renounce your birth parents, do you think you could do that?" Ned's expression told him it was safe to say 'no' but it didn't matter.

"Yes, sir. They're not my family, by their own choice. You've been very kind to me."

"Well, I am glad to hear it," Ned stood and Theon jumped up to follow him out of the office. "Keep doing well in school. You think I never notice, but I have. Listen to Robb while I’m gone, Theon. Help him take care of my family; I'm trusting you with the most valuable thing in the world to me."

"Yes, sir, thank you. I'll strive to make you proud of me." He rushed back to his room feeling better than he had in years, but he couldn't quite make it when Robb found him.

"Theon, can you help me with my homework? We can play this new game I got afterwards."

Theon stopped a second before turning. He was so tired. He knew he had made Robb feel bad earlier, though and remembered he'd be taking Robb's orders soon, so he turned, smiling with a closed mouth. "Sure. It's my fault for being so much fucking smarter than you. What game did you get?"


	3. I've Been Waiting Patiently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes scanned the lunchroom looking for anything remotely interesting.

Dead eyes, blank expressions, tittering voices babbling, babbling, about the most stupid shit. Laughing like fucking monkeys, stuffing their pig faces, fueling useless bodies so they could continue on and on; bumping into each other, fucking, breeding, new crying hungry mouths, more buzzing neon voices at every fucking turn. The best ones were entertaining for a few fleeting moments, the good ones were only boring, the rest were disgusting with their delusional sense of importance, their fucking sheepish blindness, all their endless fucking talk of nothing.

***

Theon bounded into the lunchroom looking for Kyra. He hadn't met up with her all day, they only had one class together on Tuesdays and Thursdays and it was last period. He made his way through the tables but didn't get far.

"Theon! Sit with me!" Ashley! Beautiful small girl, olive skinned, eyes so dark they always looked dilated in love for him. She was likely the smartest person he knew; smarter than him at least. He stooped down to hug her and knelt to talk.

"Hey, Ash, you want to see Don Giovanni with me next weekend?" She tilted her head the way he loved, her nose crinkled when she smiled- it made his heart race.

"I adore that opera! How did you remember?! Let me think about it, sweetie." Her voice was soft and crisp.

"Cool. Sure, think about it. I bought tickets for us." He gave her his biggest, goofiest smile and rolled his eyes up trying to make her hold his gaze, but she broke away giggling.

"You're so thoughtful, but you're too generous, Theon. With all these little dates you make, when do you ever sleep?"

"There are better things to do in a-"

"Yeah, yeah. I suppose you don't see the irony, Don Juan." He didn't. She laughed like a tinkling bell, but it didn't feel patronizing. He winked at her at walked away from another fucking failure with a smile on his lying face.

"Theon!" Two tables away, Morgan. He rushed up to her and hugged her as she sat with her laughing friends. He knelt down and held her in his arms. "I told you he's my boyfriend!" she said blushing and twisting away from him with her shoulders squeezed tight.

"Of course, baby, but when are going to make it serious?" He beamed up at her. She squirmed and shuddered a little in his arms. His pulse raced. She was so shy and sweet, and when they were alone she would unfold like a lily. She would talk excitedly about all her passionate ideas, the shows, and movies they both liked, and she would laugh so hard at his stupid jokes she would snort and blush, then they'd both laugh even harder. It was adorable, and he felt so special. He helped her bloom; he appreciated what no one else saw.

Yet, she had strict limits he couldn't push past. He understood too well and liked her too much to fight very hard. She kept her long dark hair pulled back and never used makeup or clothing to decorate herself, but had a real glow from all that love in her heart. She didn't seem to like herself though she never complained. She spent her time with people Theon thought were beneath her. He wanted to pull her up and take her away, but always remembered _he_ was the real prisoner and wouldn't be rescuing anyone from the cold North.

"Do you want to go to WinterCon? It's less than two months away?" he asked her.

She looked around at her friends. They were all so excited for her just to be talking to him. It made him feel like Adonis, but somewhere his heart twinged for her. They shouldn't put her so far below him. "It's so far, Theon! I mean... like distance-wise."

"I'll drive! I'll take care of everything! Just say, 'yes.' Think about your costume, ok?" He kissed her alabaster cheek and walked away before she could answer.

"Theon, when do I get a turn?" Laurie! She was a table across and two down. The rumbling roar of the cafeteria seemed to get louder as he pushed through to get to her. Her thick black locks held back by a bandana made way for her perfectly sculpted jaw line and long neck. She looked like Nefertiti dressed as a Portland street artist. She had a regal air, always seemed to be gracious with her patience. She smelled like vanilla and lavender. She was effortlessly unique and loved to collect people. She seemed to pick up on some original physical beauty in her friends and extrapolate their souls from there. He never understood it, but it was captivating.

"Hiya, Laurie, what can I do for you?" He kissed her hand. Laurie always smiled at him ironically but her eyes swam in happiness. She never smiles for other boys

"Come to Spoken Word tonight, Theon. There's a boy there who recites Poe as William Shatner. It's awful. You have to see it," she said dryly. She never quite rose above a distant purr. When he made her come she would scratch his back and hum in a throaty voice. "You should meet this new boy I saw today, he has the most astounding ey-"

"Theon! Don't ignore me! Get your ass over here!" Ros. Laurie seemed unimpressed with the outburst, yet amused at Theon's embarrassment. "That one is no good," she said turning from him and swirling her straw in her lemonade. He smirked, and left to see Ros.

Rosliked to jab at him, but he liked to jab back. Everything was a joke to her, even in bed she'd try to tease him, but when he made her come she lost herself to him. She had no stupid remarks; she was swept away under his control. He laughed to himself then. Her auburn hair fell in loose waves. Her eyes were hazy and her movements a little loose. "Come here, baby Theon," she called raising her arms to embrace him. "I have something really great if you want to try. Sit!"

"Yeah? Text me later. Don't be stupid with your messages; you know Mr. Stark could go through my phone whenever he wanted."

"Oh no, Mr. Stark! Oh, what will the Starks think? Why don't you relax your asshole? I heard your big Mr. Stark is leaving, is little Robbie going to bust your balls while he's gone? Aren't they real traditional like that? Did his daddy give Robbie the Stark paddle?" She laughed and slapped his ass like she thought she was flirting. He gritted his teeth.

"I don't know." He leaned over to her and dropped his voice. "How much do you charge for that, Ros? Give me a figure, and I'll see if Robb's interested but..." he whispered in her ear, "straight-laced guy like him, I don't think he'd let himself do something like that with someone like you. _He gets tighter pussy for free_."

"Bitch!" She exclaimed curling her face in shock, which he found laughable. "Text me later and have fucking cash when you see me, darling." She tossed her hair as if to dismiss him. He couldn't insult her because she didn't care enough about him. It was maddening. He walked away looking for Kyra. He pulled out his phone to text her, but his battery was dead.

"Shit!" He put in back in his pocket and scanned the faces around him desperately. He needed to talk to her, she was the only person that listened.

***

He sighed miserably. The corners of his nose turned up. New scene, new players; same dull torture. He felt like a giant being tied to the ground by these vile pissants, bound by their stupid laws, worthless opinions, childish ideals. The worst people were the ones pulling the ropes tighter; 'you can't do that!' 'are you listening?" 'stop it now, or I'll tell your dad on you!' 'do you have your homework?' 'stop or I'll scream! 'you're going to Hell!" 'you're going to detention' 'you're going to Juvi, you little bastard!' 'No, you can't see your mother; she doesn't want you.'

He just wanted to play. He wanted to make them yield their necks. Wake them up as their blood was spilled and their eyes bulged. _This is life, and you've missed it wading through all your petty bullshit. Aren't you glad I showed you before you died? Isn't it worth it? Thank me._ It was fun to poke at them; get them to wake a little bit, and make them dance. That one looks big and angry, maybe he would put up a good fight. He met a tall blonde's gaze, she smiled and blushed before turning to talk to a much more beautiful girl in braids to her left. Meh, still boring. Look how much they're talking, what the hell do _they_ have to say?

Suddenly someone seemed to glow in the distance; a lean boy with sandy waves of hair walking through the tables. He stopped every other minute to kneel and make faces for some giggling idiot before moving on to the next. _I know you..._ He rolled a pencil across the tops of his fingers and slowly ran his tongue across his lips. The boy mirrored everyone he talked to; his pretty face acting out his lies. He smiled at everyone, they all smiled back, but as soon as he thought no one was looking his gregarious theatrics vanished and a deep weary suffering fell like a heavy curtain closing out a play.

"Hey, how do you like the school-"

"Shut up," he snapped. Damon sulked and stabbed at his meat. Ramsay leaned forward, still rolling the pencil on his fingers, watching, hungry.

 _Now this is interesting. Do you want to play?_ The little boy was looking around desperately, trying to find someone. _Are you looking for me, puppy?_ Their eyes locked as if the boy had heard him. _Found you._

***

Theon staggered back and bumped into Kyra. "Is he there?" he whispered frantically. "Do you see him? Is he really there?!" The monster smiled subtly.

"Who? Theon, what is it?!" Kyra tried to turn him towards her. The monster cocked his head and his eyes rolled over to her.

"NO! No, I have to go, I have to go. Take me to the nurse, please help me, his eyes, Jesus FUCK, his fucking eyes!" his speech raced on under his breath as Kyra helped him turn away.

"Theon look at me! What did you take? Just, Theon, stop! Try to tell me what's happening," Kyra's smoky soothing voiced called him back. Her warm brown eyes were a safe respite.

"I can't tell you. Don't leave me. I have to go to the house. I need to get to the nurse," he was shaking and drained of color.

"All right, come on, honey. I'm right here," she held his arm at the wrist and top. She felt his muscles contracting against her hands. He was making a kind of rapid hiccupping, shivering sound and followed where she lead like a toy on wheels. As soon as the nurse saw him she jumped up and made him lie down. She took his blood pressure; it was too low. She raised his feet on pillows and put a blanket over him. He stared so far away; he looked as though he'd never come back. Kyra gritted her teeth and paced, but stayed out of the nurse’s way and tried to answer any questions.

Their voices echoed far away, "What did you take?" over and over.

"His eyes, was it real?" over and over was the answer.


	4. Look Right Through Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I didn't take anything," he stuttered at last, "I think I have food poisoning."

"Theon, you can tell her," Kyra looked over to the nurse, "doesn't he have a patient-nurse privilege or something?"

"I didn't take anything! _Kyra!_ " His frustration helped to ground him. Images kept flashing at him; things he pushed away, things he thought he'd forgotten, things he told himself never really happened. "It was nothing I just want to go to the house." He lied on the examination table under fluorescent lights surrounded by white stucco walls adorned with paper posters. As he rolled on his side and curled the paper sheet under him crunched and tore. He hid his face in his arms trying to do anything but cry.

The nurse sat at the ancient computer the school gave her and started typing. "I don't think he's high, Kyra. Are you his sister or... girlfriend? How well do you know him?"

"Just his friend."

"You're my best friend you fucking asshole," came his muffled response. 

Kyra didn't think he was high either now. He only let his guard down this much when something was terribly wrong. She'd seen him on every kind of drug she knew of, and he always played the charming man. However, when every Stark child, even Jon, who Cat hated, got their own dog and he just got the job of feeding them, he opened up to her at last, when his car was taken, he opened up a little more, when Cat slapped him in front of her children, he opened up for just a second, and each time he shut himself up tighter afterwards. 

She rubbed his shoulder. "Theon, I believe you, I promise. Please tell me what's happening. Who upset you?" 

Theon sprang up and lurched towards the trashcan. All retching produced no relief. He moaned and sank to the ground sweating.

Kyra turned to the nurse. "He was fine all day, even just now in the lunch room. Maybe it is food poisoning?"

"Can I talk to him alone, Kyra? Just for a minute, so I can ask some questions?" the nurse asked with a touch of authority.

"It's ok. Sorry that I puked in your garbage bin." He rolled himself to standing on shaky legs. Once the door shut and he was lying down again he started to feel better.

"I don't see that you have any chronic conditions, or _any_ family history listed, I don't even see your blood type. Do you know you're behind on your inoculations? You can't attend archery tournaments without tetanus and meningitis vaccines, but your brother Robb has his. What's going on?"

"I guess you could say there's a _Stark_ difference between us," he said smiling and shaking. He started giggling, in true hysteria. He always laughed when he was nervous; it made Cat furious but he couldn't help it. "I'm sorry, that's really stupid," he said trying to catch his breath, but he couldn't stop laughing and looked around the room, nervously

"Oh, honey," the nurse approached him slowly and stayed, what she felt would be, a comfortable distance for him. "I think you actually need to see the counselor. Did something set you off in the lunchroom? Is that what happened? Did you remember something difficult-"

"NO! No!" He started inching away. He still couldn't stop laughing. "It was food poisoning and I have a terrible fear of throwing up. Mr. Stark wants... he needs me to be strong and keep it together. He can't know I went to the counselor's office. I'm just... you know... hormones," he burst out laughing and clasped a hand over his mouth. What the fuck was his body doing? He remembered when it acted without him before, but he wasn't present like this.

***

"Fucking faggot, I bet you have a real small dick, do you even have one? Fucking pussy bitch."

"Let's see!"

Theon heard the voices as he was rounded the corner of the kids' middle school. Bran was missing when he drove Robb and Jon to pick them up, so Robb told him to go looking. He looked everywhere around the sprawling brick building until he heard the voice in the woods. The familiar sounds of scrambling, high panicked breaths, and grunting sent him flying. A larger boy and his chuckling cunt of a friend were holding Bran up against a tree. The large boy's hand was on the front of Bran's pants.

The next thing Theon remembered was Robb yelling at him while approaching from behind. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"They were trying to hurt him! He's only a boy! Just a little kid! They wanted to _hurt_ him!" He sounded like a lunatic in his own ears. Details sank in everywhere, coloring his white-hot rage. His knuckles ached up to his wrists. He looked around. Bran lied looking at him with wide eyes. A boy lied motionless beside him, his head was bloodied and swollen. The other boy was running off through the trees, crying out, snapping twigs, and tripping over branches. Theon looked at his hands, then over to Robb. "I had to protect him. He's your little brother."

"Mine, not yours," Robb took Bran away. Theon stood there stunned until Robb turned sharply to stare daggers at him.

Theon grinned and jogged to catch up.

***

"Mrs. Stark? This is the nurse- no- Mrs. Stark, calm down. Robb is fine. Yes, Mrs. Stark, this isn't about Robb. No. It's Theon. He's had some bad food poisoning and needs to be picked up." 

There was a pause and she turned her back, lowering her voice. "Well, we don't provide those services and I really don't think it's necessary. If you're that concerned you can actually buy tests over the counter at almost any pharmacy, but I can tell you as a registered nurse with over fifteen years experience, he is perfectly sober. No, he couldn't possibly; he just vomited a few seconds ago, it wouldn't be safe to let him. Well, ugh, he really needs to go home as soon as possible."

"Can Kyra take me?" he asked from the table. He wanted nothing less than to see Cat or hear any more of this conversation.

"Fine, Mrs. Stark, his friend will take him." She slammed the phone down. She stared at it before turning to him. "Theon, am I right to remember that the Starks are your _foster_ parents?"

"Since I was eight," he moaned. His stomach was killing him and he didn't want to talk anymore.

"I see," she said with a sad resignation. "Here, honey, take this; it will calm your stomach. You can see the school psychologist here anytime you want, do you understand that? We don't have to tell the Starks unless we think you're a real danger to yourself or others. There is no charge and we can do it during class. Please, tell me you'll think about it?"

"Thank you, really. You're very ... good at your job" the words kind of fell out in front of him. It wasn't what he wanted to say, but his mind was too muddy to think. He was still shaking terribly. He took a lollipop on the way out and stuck it in his mouth. Kyra stood up in the secretary's office as soon as he walked in. "Could you leave with me?" he whispered to her. She nodded and rubbed his back. The secretary wrote them both excuses. He followed Kyra to her car, she kept her arm around his back the whole way.

When he got to the house he started looking for the fake brick the key was kept in, then he stopped and staggered to the door. It was unlocked, as he thought it would be. He tried to close it very softly but after it clicked shut he heard footsteps approaching. "Trying to sneak in here, Theon?"

 _Sneak into my fucking prison?_ "No, ma'am. Can I please call Mr. Stark?" He slowly turned towards her, looking sadly defeated.

"I think you had better. Why don't you explain what this is about? I told you I _will not_ have a drug addict living with _my_ children. We will find another home to keep you until you straighten yourself out." She looked him up and down and shook her head, "After everything we've done for you." She spun around and walked away.

"TEST ME THEN!" She stopped and he remembered himself. "I'll take any test you want. Give me a chance to show you-"

"You're about out of chances," she said cutting him off. She didn't even turn to look at him before she walking away. He gritted his teeth and began to clench his fist before exhaustion collapsed all over him. _Fuck it. What's the point of trying?_

Lying on his futon in the relative privacy of his room, his stomach began twisting again when he called Ned. He hoped to get his voicemail, then he could just leave a message- but he heard Ned's voice answering on the other end before he could think of what to say. He tried to explain what actually happened while downplaying how inexcusably cowardly he had behaved. If he was Bran or any of the Stark children, Ned would be very understanding, but he was more distant with Theon and Jon. 

Ned would tell Theon all about the Greyjoys; how they lie, cheat, steal, drink themselves to death and hit their women. Ned told stories about Theon's family as though they were accusations, sometimes in front of the whole family at dinner. He would always end by saying, "We've raised you to be a better man than that, Theon, and I believe in you."

"Mr. Stark... it's _him_... that Bolton boy. I can't, I can't, I- I want to try Cyber School. Please, sir? I promise I'll still make straight A's-"

"Theon, I know that upset you as a child and I am sorry it happened, but you're almost a man now. You're a fine athlete. you would be a great boxer if I had talked Cat into letting you. You know she was afraid you'd get concussions? I told her your skull's too thick." He sounded like a _real dad_ to Theon when he tried to joke awkwardly like that. Theon smiled to himself, but it made him ache so badly. A tear escaped his screwed-shut eye.

"If you're afraid of the boy, just talk to him. I bet he's changed a lot, you have. Five years may not seem long, but it is for children. I'm sure you'll see you're more than capable of taking care of yourself now. You're stronger than you know."

Ned didn't want to hear the truth. He hadn't since Theon first tried to whisper it to him as a frantic, trembling little boy with his already big eyes stretched so wide open, red and teary. He looked up to Ned, begging for protection, but Ned couldn't allow himself to hold the boy or believe what he _knew_ Theon was trying to tell him. He couldn't protect a boy he might have to kill himself.

"Children..." Ned continued over the phone, lowering his voice, "are very curious, they _experiment_ and," he cleared his throat, "can be... well, that kind of thing happens but-"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I was-" but he had to stop himself before his voice broke.

"Just rest now. I see my wife is texting me with misplaced concerns. Don't worry, I'll calm her down for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark." _Please fucking hang up now._

"Do you want me to talk to Mr. Bolt-"

"PLEASE DON'T! I'll handle it like you said, sir. I'm sorry for the bother," he blurted out and hung up. Agony burned his heart and he wept terribly at last.

Cat came in an hour later with a glass of ice water for him. He turned away quickly to cover his face and cleared his throat. "Thank you, Mrs. Stark, you shouldn't have." His voice was weak and dry.

He felt the cushion shift under her weight at the foot of his futon. He looked up over his shoulder. His eyes were wide with desperate hope. He practically shook with a pleading need. "Theon," she said sadly, without meeting his gaze, "Roose Bolton is a very powerful friend to this family. You..." She didn't seem to know how to finish. She almost touched his leg, but then she stood and left. 

He'd been so stupid to hope. He let his miserable head drop on his pillow.

He had thought, after the trouble with the monster, that she had actually softened towards him, just a little. She spoke a little more warmly at times. She put a bandage on his skinned knee once but dropped the wrapper on the bathroom floor and fled, leaving him on the sink, when he said, "Thank you" with too much emotion. Sometimes her hand would drift to his shoulder, but it always stopped short and flew elsewhere, as if it had only been pulled off course. Those near-kindnesses stopped abruptly when he had a terrible fight with her, in front of the kids as they were getting ready for a trip. Then, and ever since, her anger came boiling back under her cold, tense features.

***

"Shouldn't I get Jon's bags, ma'am?" he asked her, loading luggage into their van. The family was going on a trip. He would have to take care of the dogs, but at least, he was old enough to stay at the house now. He really didn't mind being alone.

"Why?" She snapped at him.

"Isn't he going then? Mr. Stark always-"

"Mind your own business, young Mr. Greyjoy," she said glaring at him meaningfully. Theon remembered how Jon didn't come to breakfast or open the door when he told Theon to 'fuck off.'

"You don't tell me what to do, _Greyjoy,_ " he had said behind the door.

"I know that. I don't tell _any of you_ what the fuck to do, I'm just telling you what your fucking father told me to, _accident_ ," he growled through gritted teeth. He grinned maliciously waiting for Jon to burst through the door and fight him, then felt ashamed when there was only silence. 

When he saw Jon in the hall, heading towards the bathroom, Jon kept the side of his face covered. Now Theon understood, and an irrational anger pushed his thoughts out his sneering mouth.

"Why do you have to hate him?" Cat stopped setting up a monitor in the van's back seat and turned towards him in disbelief. "What did he ever do to you? Can you tell me that? Can you tell me one goddamned thing he ever did to you?" His voice was rising, but he couldn't stop himself. "No. You can only tell me what his _father_ did, but not one thing _he's_ ever done."

She stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face. He stumbled into the lawn but picked himself up and stared at her with iron resolve.

"Oh please, Theon, we both know who you're _really_ talking about. Go to your room and wait for Mr. Stark to get home."

 ***

She hated him at a cool distance ever since. They all hated him here. Even Robb only liked him when the mood struck his fickle ass. He was so young, and though he looked up to the older boy, he so clearly knew and felt he owned him. He never forgot. Theon loved him like a little brother but loved his freedom even more. Theon pushed the back of his palms into his eyes. His phone buzzed but he couldn't bring himself to look at it. He knew Cat must be picking up Robb and Jon in his place now, and Robb had his fucking questions about it.

_I'm here. I'm here in your fucking house. Just fucking leave me in peace for a fucking minute._

He pulled his flask out from under the futon. He had scratched, "Greyjoys are Alcoholics" on its blank metal surface. He always heard Ned grimly saying it and it made him laugh bitterly to himself every time he read it. _Just a little. Can't get drunk before Robb's fucking all over me with his concerns and demands._

 _"_ You can't tell anyone about this, Theon, not even Robb," Ned had said to a scared little boy that day when he tried reaching for the one person he thought would help him. "The Boltons are our allies... you'll understand one day. I won't send you back anymore, and I don't want to speak of this again. Do you understand?"

 _Fuck it,_ he thought. _What in the fuck do I actually have to lose?_ He drank until the flask was empty and went to sleep. Even Robb couldn't wake him.


	5. Going Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ned Stark left his home, his family made a big production of sending him off.

He gave hugs to everyone as he said his goodbyes, even the help, but when he came to Theon he didn't even shake his hand. He patted Theon's shoulder and told him to listen to Robb. _Robb is a fucking Freshman_ , he thought but smiled sadly and nodded. Jon was already on his way to basic training, no awkward parting there. Robb was more upset than Theon could understand.

Robb was pacing his room chewing his thumbnail. His room spread out before Theon as he walked in; it always seemed to surprise him with its large size. Robb had texted him from the time Ned left until he stepped through the threshold. "I just have a really bad feeling, I'm not ready for this..."

Theon didn't like seeing him worry. He walked over and put a hand on Robb's shoulder. "I'm here. I'll do everything I can to help you." Robb stopped at Theon's touch and looked at him with his usual intensity.

"Will you really? Are you really my brother?" His question felt like another accusation.

"You still don't trust me?" Theon asked smiling. _You never will, I'll never do enough to prove myself._ "Always. Now and always. I want to protect you and your family." Robb put a hand on his shoulder then asked if he wanted to play another new game he'd been given. "Robb... when can I get my car back?" It had been towed after he left it at school over the weekend and every day it sat at the impound it cost $100 more to get it back, but Cat wouldn't drive him to pick it up.

"When you stop fucking up." Robb crossed his arms and looked up at him.

"Excuse me?"

"I know you're doing drugs again. You can't bring that shit into this house, around the kids. What you do on your own time outside of this house is your business, until it affects what you do here." Robb looked every bit as serious and disappointed as his father.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" _I haven't been able to leave this fucking house for a week!_

"It's for your own good," Robb said and sat on his queen size bed waiting for Theon to acquiesce. That was all he could stand.

"Jesus fuck! You are so brainwashed by this mafia fucking mentality your family has! You're fucking fifteen! I'm seventeen! It's MY CAR! My car I paid for with the work I fucking do here! FUCK! You know why I keep fucking up in your eyes? Because you have NO IDEA what you want! You tell me to protect your siblings, then you yell at me that they aren't mine! You want me to call you 'brother' then you want me to call you 'sir'! You tell me to open up, then I talk to you and you tell me my feelings are all wrong! Just decide what you want from me, Robb! I love you, I really do, and I want to help you, but I can't if you don't even know what it is you _fucking want from me_." He ended his tirade holding out open hands, pain clearly expressed is his pleading eyes.

"My family does not have a 'mafia-mentality'," Robb said in a low voice, looking out the window, "your family is the one running ports for drug cartels in Florida. My dad told me everything before he left. I guess I always knew the big picture but... I was surprised by the details. He's a good man who saved you from a dangerous life of crime. You need to learn to be more grateful. This is a good family, Theon. I'd like you to be a part of it. Even if I am younger than you, I still haven't made the mistakes you have. No, I still don't trust you, but I believe you can earn my trust."

"You sound like your father. He is a good man." Theon walked to his room shaking his head at how little Robb knew and how much he thought he did. _I'm so lucky that he kidnapped me, I'm so lucky to be his slave, I'm so lucky to be passed on to you like I'm a piece of fucking property, I'm so lucky he killed my brothers and made my father his bitch by threatening the life of his only heir, and in case I forget how lucky I am for one fucking second, there's always a spoiled fucking Stark brat like you to tell me how very fucking lucky I am._ His fists were clenched and tears stung his eyes but didn't fall.

 

His former oasis now had a monster hiding in shadows around it. He only saw the monster at lunchtime and tried to forget about him. He'd collected a small group of friends and they always seemed to be leaning in towards each other and laughing loudly at something, but whenever Theon's gaze landed on the boy for an instant, he was always looking back.

Once, Theon went to the vending machine to get a chocolate but couldn't find a fourth quarter to buy it. He stood there pushing the coins in his wallet around with his finger when a terrible feeling overtook him. He felt the monster behind him. Without looking, or putting his wallet back, he rushed away from the vending machines. When he felt like he was far enough in the crowd he glanced back over his shoulder. He was there, getting candy out of the machine Theon had just left. He picked up a box of gobstoppers after it fell to the machine's floor and noticed Theon watching as he stood up. He popped one in his mouth and smiled at Theon. He waved with his fingers, and Theon shuddered. He smacked into football player while he was rushing away.

"Watch it, queer! Hey, aren't you fucking Greyjoy? Did you FUCK my girlfriend?!" the big, dumb animal bellowed down at him.

"Um, I don't know. Who is she?" Theon nimbly ducked his clumsy fist and walked away.

"I'm coming for you Greyjoy!" He called out loud enough for everyone to hear. His friend put an arm across his chest as if to hold him back.

After lunch, he went to his advanced Spanish class and took his seat next to Mónica, beautiful little Mónica who walked on a cloud. They'd both spoken Spanish as children before they moved here. They had the best pronunciation and understanding of idioms in the class. She was fluent and taught him how to swear better. They were translating part of Don Quixote for an independent study project. He exhaled and smiled broadly at her. "Hey, Móni, I made a playlist for you with some Chicago House music I think you'll like. It's so much better than Dubstep, and you like old school rap so-" he had that awful feeling again and slowly turned to the front of the room. The monster was talking to Señor Naranjo. The teacher looked confused. The monster pointed to the computer on the teacher's desk. He typed at the computer for what felt like hours until he finally turned back to Ramsay smiling and said, "Siéntese, por favor," gesturing to seats.

Everyone was talking as he came closer. He laid a heavy hand on Mónica's desk and smiled. She blushed and called to her friend Savannah, as though she just noticed her sitting there. She took her things and left Theon gripping the sides of his desk, his chest heaving. He looked straight ahead, afraid to even twitch. Señor Naranjo stood up from his desk and began calling to the class to pay attention. Theon asked to be excused, he heard Señor Naranjo calling, "En Español, por favor, Señor Greyjoy!" as he hurried to the restroom. He ran the water and waited until it warmed then took a paper towel from the dispenser and wet it. He was about to bring it to his face when he heard the door open.

Theon darted into a stall pushed his arms, shoulders, back and feet against the sides. He heard slow footsteps and used a shaking hand to painfully reach the lock and slide it shut. The strain made is muscles spasm. The footsteps slowly and casually strode to the end of the stalls and back. They stopped before the entrance. Theon tried to not to make a sound but he was trembling all over now and his muscles were burning. At last, the door opened and closed. He exhaled, but waited as long as he could before letting one leg drop, then the other. He unlocked the door and peeked out, only finding his pale and pathetic reflection under the green-yellow buzzing lights. He ran his hands through his hair and took a few deep breaths.

 _Maybe I can just say I'm sick again?_ He never missed school, no matter how hung over or strung out he was. Everyone would probably believe him.

When he came out of the restroom, his class seemed horribly close. He had to, at least, say something to his teacher and get his backpack but his feet didn't want to move. He rolled his head back and sighed. _Just go, lie like you always do, figure something out later. Maybe I can switch classes... maybe I can ask Cat about Cyber school... or Robb. Robb will let me! How fucking path-_

"Hello." The word seemed to stab right between his shoulders. "Where are you going?"


	6. A Little Kindness Can Go A Long Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon turned around slowly hoping he was wrong about the voice he heard, but there he was leaning against the wall, smiling, one hand in his pocket.

"What are you doing?" the accusation came out as a whisper. Theon shook his head unconsciously in disbelief. His eyes were locked on the frosted steel orbs, watching and responding to him with razor sharp focus. Theon took a step back, leaning this way and that; the eyes kept following him. The curious expression seemed to react to his every thought. He remembered this about the monster; how he looks at you, how he makes you feel like you've never been  _seen_  before his eyes found you, how stares at you like he's  _hungry_.

Ramsay's free hand rose in the air when he said, "Isn't it obvious? I've been trying to talk to you for a while now. Do you remember me?" He twisted and lowered his head slightly. His eyebrows rose, his frosted eyes seemed to sparkle with anticipation.

"Nope. Sorry, man," Theon forced his widest closed-mouthed smile. He turned away, trying not to run when his arm was pulled back. The touch sent him back into the basement in a stabbing flash. His hands taped above his head, the squealing screams of the horror trolley bringing forth the monster's toys for him, t _hose inhuman eyes laughing at him_. He was crumbled on the floor watching a movie that couldn't touch him.

"You do remember me," the monster said in a soft, sad voice that couldn't have come from his nightmare face. He lowered himself slowly with both palms in the air. "Hey, hey, it's ok. We're just talking. Are you with me?" He ran his tongue back and forth on the inside of his teeth, feeling the contours of every surface. Theon's eyes darted around, as he clutched himself and tried to breathe. Curled on the cold and dirty ceramic floor, he looked like he had been launched into dreaming. He'd grown into his huge aqua eyes and lopsided smile so beautifully. His feet and hands were big and clumsy on him the last time Ramsay was this close. It was so hard not to touch him now. Tingling pleasure rushed up through Ramsay watching the Prince of this stupid school collapse into his lost puppy again.  _Just for me, just for my touch._

"Theon, look. Here, I'm going to take your hands now. I'm not going to do anything but touch your hands. I won't hurt you, or take you anywhere. I'm just trying to help you come back down, ok?" Theon whimpered and tried to squirm when Ramsay touched him again but was too lost to fight. He was watching from outside of himself. Though his body protested, he didn't feel a thing. Ramsay gently turned Theon's palms up with a light touch. Theon shut his eyes and whined, gritting his teeth. "Shhh, it's alright." Ramsay traced his thumbs in circles on Theon's palms. "Do you feel that? Focus on the circles. Are they getting bigger, or smaller?"

Theon opened his eyes; he felt in his body but still separate from it. "It's getting bigger."

"Good, now  _look at me_. Very good," his continued in a voice strong and sweet, patient and attentive. Didn't he know that kind of caring wasn't for Theon? Nothing happening made any sense, so he decided none of it was real. "Ok, breathe in through your nose like this," he said with an earnest, focused concern that Theon couldn't reconcile with the person giving or the one receiving it. Theon looked at his hands, watching the thumbs trace round and round so lightly. He looked back at the eyes; always,  _always_  looking at him. "Now exhale slowly, through your mouth, like this. Good. Can you tell me where you are?"

"..." he remembered when a philosophy teacher he once had announced that the first person who could define 'word' without help would get an A on the next quiz. Every hand shot up. Theon was called on first and the simplest thing he was sure he knew, vanished as soon as he tried to grasp it, "I..."

"Ok, how old are you?"  _Oh, god._  He wasn't six, Ramsay wasn't either, they weren't eight or twelve... "I'm seventeen," he remembered.

"Good!" Ramsay smiled, his whole faced brightened. "Are you safe?"

"Yes..." He looked at his hands again.  _You're touching me._  But he didn't feel scared anymore, he only knew he should be. The motion seemed to draw him back into himself until things became grounded again. He felt dizzy but took deep, slow breaths with Ramsay and felt like he was finally getting oxygen.

"Say where you are, how old, and if you're safe."

"I'm in school, I'm seventeen, I'm safe," he said robotically. He felt lost in those terrible eyes. He'd seen them so many times in darkness, but now there they were just blinking at him with longer eyelashes than he remembered, in a face of ordinary flesh.

"Good boy." Theon felt something else -the worst thing the monster ever did to him- and tried to pull away, exhaling sharply. "Wait,  _wait_ , I just have to have to say something. If I let go are you going to leave?" He asked patiently. It made Theon feel so very small and scared. There was a threat behind it.

"No, I won't," he whispered hoarsely. He sat up straight, and they both leaned their backs against the wall. Theon hugged his knees and looked the other way.

Ramsay smiled behind him. He loved the back of his head, especially like this; his long neck curling and round shoulders squeezing towards his chest. He was even better than Ramsay had imagined he would be. "I just needed to tell you I'm sorry-"

"Please don't," a small voice interrupted. “Thank you, truly, I... it's very generous of you to say that. It means a lot, but please don't say it again." Theon peeked over his shoulder at Ramsay, his eyebrows arched together in apologies.

Ramsay shuddered seeing it and bit his lip. He looked away quickly, "Well, then just... I wanted to tell you, you know... I've changed. That's all. I'm not trying to excuse anything, I swear, but that last time..." he sighed and blinked staring at his shoes, "my brother had died, my mother was institutionalized, and I moved in with my father ... who I knew just a little better than you did at that age." He rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel Theon turning to look at him. "It was all within three weeks of each other. I mean... including what I did to you... you know? I know it..." he rubbed his fingers through his short raven-colored hair and swallowed audibly, "it doesn't change anything. You didn't de-"

"OK! Ok, thank you- you don't have to say that part. It's alright. I didn't know about all that other stuff." Theon looked around, so amazed and confused that this was really happening and outside of his fifth period Spanish class of all places. He had thought about this scenario thousands of times, alone in the dark. He'd often fantasized about killing the monster now, getting his apologies before the deathblow. It was never like this, never so simple and ordinary. He never saw the monster as a boy like him. "I'm sorry, man. That sucks." He chewed at the inside of his cheek and wrung his hands. "I was always afraid of your dad. Were you? I mean, when you moved in and all that stuff was happening?" Theon peeked back at him to see his answer.

Ramsay's profile rolled into view, his eyes kept searching until they landed on Theon. He smiled. "Terrified." He clasped his hands behind his head and stretched a little. "Fuck, I'd only ever lived with my mother. No one explained what was happening with her, I thought she was dying." His set his teeth on edge, his nose flared and he frowned bitterly while his eyes drifted away.

"Holy shit, that's how I felt. I went through the same thing!"

Ramsay looked at him with a mix of suspicion and hurt, "Cat never went anywhere, Father would have loved telling me all about that."

"That's not my mother. Don't you remember? I'm not a Stark. I'm just their... leverage." He'd never said that to someone outside the Stark family before. He'd only yelled something like it at Robb.

"I thought that was Jon?" Ramsay winced in confusion and looked above for his memory to help him.

"Yeah? Would you tell them that?  _He_  got to leave. I'd fucking join the military to get away from there. Fuck Jon. I was the only person below him so he kind of stepped on me to get closer to Robb. Do you remember at that Christmas party at the capitol, right after Robert Baratheon left his company to become mayor when you put a  _snake_  in Robb's spaghetti? How did you even do that? That was you right?"

"Oh, Christ, probably. There's a lot I don't remember, but that sounds right." Ramsay smiled and blushed a little. They both laughed somewhat awkwardly.  _Yeah, he kept touching you and pulling you away from me, and I was stupid enough to think the snake would kill him._  Ramsay laughed harder. Theon remembered more of that night and thought on how much he had just said out loud to the same person who hurt him then; personal things he never told anyone. He felt nauseous and struggled to get up. Ramsay stood as Theon struggled on wobbling legs, and came closer to the boy. "Theon, I did those things because  _I_  was fucked up and I really liked you-"

"Please don't-"

"You didn't deserve it-"

"Stop, I don't walk to talk about-"

"... and I'm so sorry. It was my fault."

" _Shut up_!"

"I want to take care of you now. I know you always thought everyone hated you-"

"Please, stop, stop, stop," Theon put his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. He started sinking and bobbing with the sobs he fought back. "Stop it, stop it!"

" -but I never did. I never will.  _I don't want your masks either_." Ramsay lifted his hand to touch the face; blotchy red, twisted just for him, lost in memories of their time together.  _You never forgot me either._  He smoothed away the tears with his thumb. His puppy's face was so soft.  _You ARE mine. You're really mine, all mine._  Theon opened his eyes and saw tears of remorse on the monster's face; his hand was even trembling when it touched Theon's face.

"Why? Why?!" He tried to ask why everyone else hated him, why did he have to be tethered to people who spit on him? Why did he have to lie so much he didn't know who he was anymore? Why couldn't he get off from fucking, why did he need the sense of control over someone and a kind word or touch more than air? Why had he whored himself out to anyone who would open her legs? Why did he never find comfort from any drug, friend, accomplishment, lover, or drink? Why did he only feel connected with the one person he should hate the most? Why did he  _want_  him?

He screamed and tore at his hair then falling to his knees. Ramsay caught him and pulled him up. He wanted to comfort his puppy, to have him, to take him, and keep him forever. He was so close. He had him in his arms at last. How could he let his little Reek go after all waiting so long to find him?

Their teacher came through the classroom door into the hall. "Theon?!" The new boy was holding him, rubbing his back trying to calm him with tears in his own eyes. "Mr. uh- what is it? What's wrong with Theon? Does he need to go to the nurse, or go home?"

"He's having a really hard time right now. Can he leave?" The new boy said, with a deep wealth of compassion.

"Of course, yes, whatever he needs," he stepped closer to Ramsay and whispered, "will you let me know what this is about later? I'm very worried..."

Ramsay nodded. "Can I take him home?"

Ramsay's heart nearly burst when he heard 'Yes.'


	7. You'll Love Me at Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was too much to crash down on Theon and he was hopelessly swept away.

Ramsay guided him to putting his back on the wall and leaned in to look into his eyes. "Stay here. I'm going to get your backpack and mine. You're not going to leave, are you?"

"No." His hollow chest ached terribly with shame when he said it. He felt so small; frightened and small.

"You're going to wait here for me?" Ramsay kept lowering and tilting his head to keep Theon from breaking eye contact.

Theon swallowed hard and made a miserably hopeless face. "Yes."

Ramsay smiled brightly and went to get their things.

It really was the same hall he'd walked through for three years now. Same grey and blue painted cement, same speckled beige ceramic tiles, dotted with cracked corners and stains from old gum, brown heavy plastic trash bins every third door down, thin cardboard posters hanging at slight angles.

Theon had always thought if he confronted the monster it would be more like slaying a dragon somehow. An acidic smile crept across his face.  _I even lie to myself_.

Ramsay burst through the door, grinning. He'd changed completely from the boy who wiped Theon's tears with his own in his eyes. He wrapped his arm around Theon. "Come on! We just have to take these notes to the secretary. Do you want to wait in the car and I'll do it? Would you feel better staying with me?" His eyes were dancing with excitement, he seemed to have just walked out of a summer's day.

Feeling like he was being pulled into a maelstrom, Theon hugged himself and huddled down to inch away from the warm, heavy arm on his shoulders. Ramsay was still talking happily beside him but he couldn't understand a word. He watched as his feet walked underneath him, he looked over at the black boots walking in time with them.

He blinked hard a few times then let one foot leap far ahead to pull away from the arm's weight. He was barely free for an instant when the arm swooped down and across his chest pulling him back. He gasped, and his neck slid into the crook of Ramsay's elbow. He winced and convulsed as if he was going to vomit, but regained himself. His head started bobbing in a way he couldn't control as he stared at the floor passing under him. He wrapped his arms around himself more tightly and gathered up the soft cloth of his hoodie in his hands.

He was shaken gently, "Well?" Ramsay was looking at him, waiting.

"I can't, I can't, now, think... I can't," he said with slow, slurred speech.

"Do you want me to do it?" Ramsay asked. Theon couldn't focus on him enough to hear his excitement or see him his chest rise when Theon nodded 'yes.' "Ok, don't worry. I'll take care of you." Ramsay did all the talking for them, gave the nurse the papers as Theon dully swayed in his arm. Only when the moist breezy air hit his face and his shoes started scratching against the pavement did he wake up.

"Wait!" He stopped.

Ramsay did too, setting his jaw and smiling coldly, " _What?_ "

"I'll just wait for the bus."

"It won't be here for almost two hours." Ramsay tried to say calmly.

"I'm-"

"Where's your car? I thought you usually drove."

 _Why do you know that?_ "I had food poisoning two weeks ago and left my car here over the weekend. For some reason they towed it, and Mrs. Stark won't take me to get it."

"Well?" Ramsay raised his eyebrows and threw out his hands, but Theon just looked nervously back him in silence. "I'll take you!" He pulled Theon back to him and started again towards his car.

"Really?! Are you sure? It's all the way downtown though!" Theon never thought he'd see his car again. He was willing to get in Ramsay's car if it meant he'd get his own back. He searched his pocket to be sure; "I have the keys! Would you, it's pretty far, I don't know. I couldn't-"

"Yes, yes, come on." Ramsay smiled with well-satiated contentment. He swung open the door of a two-door, black 1969 Dodge Charger.

"Wow! This is your car!" Theon looked it over then realized he was trapped between the open door, the next car, Ramsay and the waiting passenger's seat. He got in and Ramsay shut the door. He heard the trunk slam and panic rose back up in his chest when Ramsay sat beside him and locked the doors. "They had automatic locks back then?"

Ramsay smirked, then frowned and looked from Theon's face to the empty buckle at his side. Theon put his seatbelt on. Ramsay smiled and peeled out. Theon took out his cigarettes and lighter with shaking hands. Ramsay tore them away and threw them out his window. "Don't smoke in my car!"

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry. It's just a force of habit."

"A _habit_? Really?" He nose curled up and he looked disapprovingly at Theon.

"What?" Theon was more panicked than defensive.

"You shouldn't smoke," he said feigning a wince, "it makes you smell terrible." He watched Theon turn to his own window and pull his knees to his chest. Ramsay couldn't suppress a grin. "Do you like her?"

"Who?"

"My car. I call this one Tansy."

"How many do you have?"

Ramsay just looked at him and smiled. "Aren't you going to tell me where the impound is?"

"Oh, uh, yeah... well, it's downtown behind the cultural district-"

"Find it on your phone then give it to me."

"Oh, right." He fumbled around with his phone until he got directions up, then gave it to Ramsay. Ramsay's eyes darted from the road to the phone and his thumb quickly danced and tapped on its surface.

"Alright, just keep the map open. I put my number in your phone so you can call me if you need a ride again." Ramsay's phone vibrated and he pulled it up eagerly and smiled. "Perfect." He tapped on his own phone a few times and put it away. "So, what's the first thing you want to do when you get your car back?" he asked smiling and relaxed like an old friend.

"Oh, god, I can't wait to get in my car and just drive around; I don't care where. I'm just going to drive for hours. I wish I could just get on the interstate and see where it goes! Do you ever do that? Just... ride around? You know, with like, no ... plan?" Ramsay smiled with real understanding and nodded. There was a gleam of adoration in his eyes Theon was able to ignore in his excitement. "Then I want to tell Mrs. Stark she doesn't have to worry about taking me downtown anymore! FUCK her! I hate living there!" Theon yelled but he was laughing, Ramsay laughed with him. His ears kind of rose when he laughed hard. Theon cleared his throat. "You're not going to tell me how lucky I am?" he tried to smile but was worried about something he couldn't put his finger on.

Ramsay's brow furrowed and he looked disgusted before laughing loudly, " _Why?_  I wouldn't want to live with the fucking _Starks_. I always thought it would be like the Sound of Music before that flying nanny arrived."

Theon giggled despite himself. "She was a nun in that movie!"

"She was?"

"Yeah, but you're absolutely right about everything else, ha ha! I'd be that Nazi that hung around in that case I guess; the one they all hated!" They were both laughing now. Theon's phone vibrated in his pocket. "Oh fuck. I'm sorry, I have to take this."

"Why?"

"It's Robb. It's a long story but-"

Ramsay snatched his phone and said, "Hello, Robb."


	8. Still Up in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon's chest tightened sharply and he tried to grab the phone, but Ramsay just switched the phone to his left ear and laughed silently.

Ramsay put his index finger in front of his lips and smiled. Theon remembered that look, grabbed his ribs and shrunk back a little. "Hey, is this Robb I'm guessing? That's what the phone says. Do you have Theon's home number? I looked through his contacts but couldn't find anything listed as 'dad' 'mom' or 'home.' Well, it's pretty private matter. I'd rather talk to his family and I have no idea who you are," his eyes shone brightly and his face lit up as Theon heard the voice on the other end get much louder. He knew that controlled voice trying to sound strong and threatening; only sounding petulant and distant. "Wait, wait a minute, I think I remember you. Don't you have like ginger hair and freckles? Yeah, you were always hanging around him and pulling him away at parties- you're his boyfriend right?"

" _Stop it!_ " Theon whispered. He tried so hard to look pissed off and not laugh, but he kept imagining Robb's face. He always takes himself so fucking seriously, he must be beside himself. Ramsay saw Theon's laughter and poked at him to say, _watch this!_.

"HEY! It's not a hard fucking question! I need to contact his family, do you want to help your boyfriend or not?!" Ramsay barked at him. Theon believed him for an instant; his face had changed completely, but then it brightened again and he said, "His brother? I don't understand... oh, wait, _are you guys Lannisters_?"

Theon clapped both hands over his mouth and they both doubled over in silent laughter at Robb's indignant shouting on the other end. Ramsay let the phone drop so he could try to catch his breath, he exhaled audibly. Then he sat up and looked serious and frustrated at once. "Hey, alright, buddy! Listen, LISTEN! He's in my Spanish class, he got sick and couldn't take himself to your house because he doesn't have his car? Uh huh, uh huh- I don't care. Pay attention because here comes the important part; he had a seizure while I was driving him so I'm taking him home. My dad has a doctor coming over now. Ok? Hey, kid, it's alright... ok, shut the fuck up. I am _trying_ to get a hold of his parents so I can get his medical history. Oh. Uh huh. Well, when you figure it out just have your parents call back, ok?" Ramsay hung up and laughed.

Theon tried not to smile but couldn't stop. He felt ashamed.

"Do you understand what I just gave you?" Ramsay asked throwing Theon's phone at him.

"I have no idea," he said afraid to take his eyes off of his window. "This is the weirdest fucking day of my life."

"A night off, you little idiot. You're fucking welcome."

"What if he calls your father?"

"He's out of town. He often goes away on business. Even if he wasn't, he likes games."

"Oh, shit! I haven't been out of that damn house for so fucking long! Oh my god, what do I say when I go back, though? He's going to be so pissed off..." Theon finally glanced back at Ramsay.

"So what?! What are you going to say? Are you serious? You had a seizure, I took you to my house, the doctor said you're alright but you should see your family doctor to look into why it happened and maybe reassess your condition. Some shit like that- you're pretty unclear because you had a fucking grand mal seizure. I'll talk to the Doctor father has on retainer and get some better shit to tell them if you're so worried about it. Hey," he shoved Theon by the shoulder. _Fucking look at me._ "How can you lie so much and still be so bad at it?"

"I'm not bad at it."

"Fucking really? You're supposed to say, 'I'm not a liar!' and act surprised and insulted."

"I'm usually better," Theon smiled shyly at him, then looked back out the window. It was so hard to remember who he was talking to. He didn't seem like the monster from Theon's nightmares. He only had images of what had happened, not complete stories. The _monster_ towered over him, he moved in the dark, they were always in the dark, at some party he was dragged to, pulled away from everyone with some kind of ... promise.

Fear stabbed into his heart and ripped down tearing through his stomach. They were in the city limits now and would stop soon. He tried to breathe normally and act like the was brooding over something. He tapped his foot and tried to think of he and Kyra's favorite song. Nice and slow, soothing and bittersweet, he tried to blast it in his head to calm his body. He scratched behind his ear and let his hand fall beside the seat belt's buckle. He couldn't look at Ramsay now. He tried to appear lost in thought and slipped his other hand just over the door handle. _Just wait until we stop._

They rolled into traffic and stopped at last. He took a breath- "Hey," Ramsay laid a hand on his back and leaned in towards him, "you ok?" He couldn't speak or look at him. He felt as soon as he looked at Ramsay this illusion of normalcy would be shattered and the attack would begin. He bit his lip and nodded. "So...? What are you going to do tonight?"

"Um, heh, I don't know. My girlfriend is waiting for me to call actually. I'll call her soon or she'll worry. She worries a lot... gets it from her dad, I think. He's a cop, so you know, he's really fucking paranoid and kind of put all that on her."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Ramsay pushed his shoulder and started laughing again. "Why do you keep lying to me when you're so fucking bad at it? Look, in the future, if someone knows when you're lying you should stop or stick as closely to the truth as you possibly can or else you'll keep teaching them how to tell when you're lying. Just remember that if you ever really fuck up and get yourself in trouble. No, you know what? Nevermind, just call me when you get in over your head, you fucking idiot." He laughed again and tousled Theon's hair. "Oh, I see," he took Theon's phone back off his lap and waved it in his face, "Is that you're worried girlfriend with the paranoid cop father?"

"Yeah right." He grabbed his phone band and frowned, seething. "I'm _sure_ you've heard about me," Theon muttered curling up in his seat and staring at the floor.

"Oh? What should I have heard about you?"

"You know! My _reputation_ ," Theon looked at Ramsay incredulously. Ramsay stared back blankly. "The best lover in the whole fucking school? The one all the girls want? The one with the greatest fucking cock? Me! I'm Theon fucking Greyjoy! I _know_ you've heard about me!"

"Hmm. Some redhead told me you don't like women but you're afraid to try men," Ramsay said. Theon couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Roz! Fucking bitch. She is the most jealous, possessive person I've ever been with. She loves to call me a whore while _she_ takes money from men she hates. She just talks shit about me because she wants me to stop fucking other women. Every time we fuck I make her come and she can't get me off, it drives her crazy," he smiled to himself. "Look, you'll find out soon enough. Just ask anyone about me."

"You fuck prostitutes?" Ramsay's voice was flat.

"Well, yeah I guess so. I don't pay for it. I just like women, all kinds of women, a lot. I don't care what else they do, I'm not trying to judge anyone or lock them down. I just want to make them ... feel good. I could talk to you for hours about every woman I've been with and exactly what she likes. I like to really get inside their heads and make them feel like their dreams are coming true; it's the best fucking feeling in the world." Ramsay just stared at him with the same blank expression. "What?! Don't you believe me? Ask that kid that sits with you at lunch, the big one. He's lived here long enough to know. I actually fucked his girlfriend last Summer. Michaela! She's amazing. Black hair to her shoulders, this perfectly symmetrical elfish face, she's hilarious and cool as fuck too. Her tits are perky with these tiny nipples," his head rolled back just thinking about her under him, "she loves missionary which, I find, is totally underrated. She scratches my back and talks in this raspy voice-"

" _Damon!_ " When he looked back at Ramsay, he appeared more unconvinced than ever.

"Huh? What was I talking about? No! Not Damon, Michaela."

"Jesus motherfucking Christ, you _dumb ass_ \- are you telling me you fucked _Damon's_ girlfriend? The one he's still dating?"

"Well, yeah, just a few times." Ramsay's jaw dropped. Traffic was crawling around them. Theon felt better knowing he could leave when he wanted to, but they seemed to be heading towards the impound and he was so lost in thought about Michaela, he all but forgot what he'd been freaking out over. He smiled thinking about how her back arched as he sucked and lightly bit her neck, how her legs wrapped around his waist and slid up his back tightening as he kissed down her stomach.

"THEON!"

He woke up and jumped. "What?!"

"What in the fuck were you thinking?!" Ramsay gripped his forehead, his mouth was agape in disbelief. _What if I wasn't transferred here?!_

"No, no, it's not a big deal. He cheats on her all the time. He doesn't love her or anything. Oh shit! Actually, she said he was obsessed with his best friend a real- ... it must be you." Theon felt a mix of nervousness and shame, but he didn't know why.

"Of course, he doesn't _love_ her, fucking-" Ramsay covered his eyes as if to regain himself. "That's not the point! Don't you- how can you be so fucking stupid?! Do you WANT to die?!" Theon looked at his feet again. " **WELL?!** " When he said 'no' Ramsay knew was lying again and realized if he took him home he probably wouldn't be able to stop himself from killing the boy in his rage. Letting him go seemed more unthinkable than ever, he didn't have much longer to keep up the rouse so he had to decide which of the two of them he could trust more with Reek's life tonight.

Every time he tried to think of what to do with him he had intrusive visions of choking and stabbing him, fucking him while he bled out, tearing his insides apart with his cock, destroying his corpse so no one would ever touch him again, slicing the skin off his face and eating it so he could keep a part of him forever. And after that? He'd be gone. What would Ramsay have then? Memories and a life of boredom? _I can't take him feeling like this. This isn't what I want for us, this isn't what we can be. What the fuck do I do?_

"Do you know about how I came to live with the Starks?" Theon asked.

Ramsay shook his head. A distraction would be good right now. _At least, if he's talking he won't keep thinking about jumping out of the car._

"I learned to speak death in four different languages; Spanish, Mandarin, Pashto, and Arabic; death and the metric system. My birth father controls ports in Florida and it's much easier for kids to pick up languages than adults. He didn't think I was good for anything else, really. I only remember Spanish now. It's incredible how you just lose a language, you wouldn't believe it. When we lived in Miami I spoke Spanish more than English, but I stopped when I moved here, and when I took classes, a language that was once as familiar to me as this one had just...slipped away. Anyway, my father stepped on the Baratheon's territory somehow. Must have to do with arms trade since Robert was vice president and still is the majority stockholder of a fucking weapons manufacturer."

His voice lowered and sounded further away, "They came to my house at 3:17 in the morning. There was a shootout. I saw my brother's bodies; in the foyer, crumpled on the stairs so loose and unnatural, and in the lawn ... I just see his boots... I think I can make out his hand. There's so much blood, it's pitch black, and I only see them for a moment. I don't know which was Rodrick and which was Maron. I used to try to decide what body belonged to who... I don't know why. It felt important to know. Mr. Stark carries me away, my sister's crying... I think they're killing her the way she's crying. I thought the man from the North was going to kill me. In the car he told me if I was very good, did what he said, and never tried to go back to my family, he wouldn't hurt me. _Unless_ my father turned again, then he'd have to kill me. He said that, right then, to an eight-year-old who had just seen his brother's corpses. Then he told me, 'You have to be very strong now.' I never understood what that meant. So... I've been living every day knowing tomorrow isn't promised to me. I didn't think I'd make it this long. I don't know what's going to happen to me when I graduate. I just see the one door out of that house slamming shut on me... I have to live my lifetime however I can in the time I have. I guess... I want to be remembered by people who don't hate me. I want someone to think it was better that I didn't die that day, you know? I wanted to make an impression on some beautiful people so that I wouldn't just disappear completely when Mr. Stark kills me."

"I'm sorry." It was all very hard for Ramsay to hear. He had no idea how that a sword had always hung over his Reek's head. No one had taken care of him, he didn't know or want to take care of himself. It was a miracle he was still here for Ramsay to save. _You should have stayed with me._ He had to rethink everything and find a way to keep him safe until he had him for good. When he first saw his Reek again, he didn't think his need could hurt any worse but then... "You are full of surprises."


	9. Loving Your Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay's kept trying to push away the thought that killing Theon would cure him of this disease; he knew it was a lie.

"I've never talked to anyone like this." Ramsay turned to see big sad oceans of need looking up at him. So vulnerable, they were asking him for something. Theon turned away quickly looking like he'd been caught, and he had. "I don't know. I like listening better," he murmured hoping to reconstruct his shattered walls.

Ramsay's chest began rising and falling slower and heavier than before. Every breath brought warm tingling elation cascading from his chest to his body. It felt so good it hurt a little. He wondered what this was called? "Seriously? You have so many friends. You're always smiling at everyone, and they're always smiling back," he said, trying to hide his bitterness.

"Yeah. I like people. I keep looking for... something. Heh, I don't know. I guess I just want to be who they need me to be. I can't stop talking to you like this... if anything real comes out of me, I can't seem to make it stop. It's usually panic or anger and I kind of black out. Hopefully, I'll forget all of this."

"WHY?" Ramsay turned to him so quickly he seemed to be lunging.

"I'm kidding! It's just... it's embarrassing... I don't know, really. I have no idea what this day is about. It feels like a dream..." Theon was a little ball on the passenger seat now. He tried to focus on something tangible to make things seem more real. He found some string on the back of his jeans where the cuff was tearing, and wrapped it around his finger; tighter and tighter. "I am a good liar, by the way."

"Pfft. The worst."

"Well, you're the first person to say so."

"Then no one else is paying attention." Ramsay smirked.

He pulled the string tighter and tighter around his red striped, swollen finger until it snapped. "People see what they want; that works for me."

"Yeah? What do I see when I look at you?" Theon glanced over at Ramsay and was trapped by the icy eyes relentlessly piercing him. He felt stripped. He grabbed another string and wrapped it tightly around his finger. He tried to think of something clever to say to him. "We're here. Don't forget your bag in the trunk." When Theon came around to the trunk to get his backpack Ramsay was waiting. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"Ok." His voice was small but sounded casual.

They walked up to the high iron-barred fence and buzzed to be let in. A camera watched them as a voice asked what they wanted over a little speaker. Ramsay said they were picking up a car. The gate rattled open. There were two chain link fences with chicken wire looping around the top between him and the parking lot holding his car hostage. Ramsay led him to a trailer. An older woman and, what appeared to be, her three grandchildren were yelling at an unmoved muscular man in a black polo shirt sitting behind bulletproof glass.

When it was their turn, the cost came to nearly two thousand dollars. Theon produced his card. "Sorry, the name doesn't match your ID," the man said looking more annoyed than sorry.

"No, no, that's my father. I'm only seventeen, I don't have my own credit card. Look, I can put... five hundred down, cash." Theon said pulling out all his money. Ramsay wondered how he got it.

"Nope. You don't have the same last name. Come back with the money kid. NEXT!" Theon saw his freedom slipping away as a large man behind him stepped up trying to edge in past him. Ramsay pushed Theon aside and the man stepped back. Ramsay gave the man his card and license. "Ok, it's all yours." He gave Ramsay the receipt and told him how to find the lot the car was in. Theon followed Ramsay to his car, unsure of what to say. He saw his car and ran to it.

"Oh, my baby!" He kissed the roof. He unlocked the door and threw his bag inside. Ramsay gave him the receipt and crossed his arms. "THANK YOU!" He hugged Ramsay impulsively then tore himself away as quickly as he could. "Here, take this as a down payment and I'll give you the rest Monday. Do you want me to pay you a percentage of the loan?"

Ramsay snorted and tried not to smile. "I don't want your money."

"I... but, I have to pay you back. Here, take it." He held out the money and felt his stomach sinking. "Please?"

"Do I look like I need your fucking money?" His face was dark. "Don't insult my generosity."

"But..."

"You know what you can do for me?" Ramsay swooped down upon him and grabbed his face with both hands. "Stop making such fucking awful decisions. If you get in trouble, you call me. _Promise me_."

"I-I promise." Theon stuttered out.

"Promise what?"

"I won't make stupid decisions, I'll call you if I'm in trouble." His stomach turned as he felt himself shrinking.

"Good. Then we're even. Don't break your fucking promise." He released Theon's face and shoved him against his car. Then he walked away. Theon leaned against his car hopelessly trying to understand things. When Ramsay disappeared out the gate he noticed a guard waving to him to leave. He got in his car and felt new life swell up within him when it started. Everything else fell away and he thought about Kyra. Driving away, he felt just like he was flying.

Kyra didn't answer. After he tried three times he decided to call Sarah. He scrolled through his contacts at a stoplight and paused on "Ramsay" awhile, then thawed and moved onto Sarah. "Hey, beautiful! Guess who got their car back! No, I'm fine, I'm fine, it was just a seizure I used to get them as a kid..." _How did he know about the seizures? I haven't had one for years..._ "Hey! Let me take you out tonight! Haven't you been wanting to go to that 80s night at the Goth club you like? I'm downtown already, I'll come pick you up."

When Damon ran down his gravel driveway to Ramsay's car his heart was racing. Ramsay had been so preoccupied and distant lately. Damon's mom pushed aside a heavy towel hanging in the window of their trailer and shouted through the screen to pick her up some menthols. She knew his rich friend was good for favors. He didn't even close the door before Ramsay sped away. He looked even more removed than before, maybe even... "Are you mad at me or what?"

"What."

"What's going on? You never want to hang out anymore and now you won't talk or even look at me. The fuck did I do?" He threw his hands up in exasperation.

"It's not you. Someone else pissed me off," Ramsay said calmly. "Wanna go have some fun with him?" Now Damon smiled feeling like he was saved from the cold outside of Ramsay's affection. "Good. I have something to tell you too. First let's get some gas."

Sarah floated down the stairs looking like a dark fantasy. Her thick long hair shimmered down around her shoulders in tight curls. She was tall and curvy, with strong features. She looked like a Viking queen. She had a great exploding laugh and purring voice. Her eyes smoldered at him when he took her hand. He was drinking tea with her mom when she had finally descended from her room. She smelled like Autumn spices. He thanked her mom for the tea and helped clean up. Her mom pinched his cheek and told them to be careful.

At the club, he felt so alive and free. He walked through a sea of beautiful women, stopping to say hello to ones he knew or wanted to know, and buy them a drink or offer a smoke. Sarah pulled him towards her and whispered, "Hey, you're coming home with me, right?" She winked at him and went back to talking to an athletic woman with half her head shaved and skin like honey. He wondered why he didn't spend more time with her.

"What's so special about this guy?" Damon asked. They watched him walk into a club yelling with his two stupid friends.

"I'll tell you about it after. Wait in the back parking lot. Cover your face, look for cameras. Did you bring it?"

"Yeah. I still don't-"

"Here, that's more than it's worth. See you soon. Don't text anything stupid."

"Hey, Theon, this is Rain and Trina. They want to get out of here. Trina says we can drink at her place, wanna go?" Sarah ran a finger down his shirt.

"You're just trying to make me look bad. Alright, Sarah, you win." She couldn't hear over the music so he gave her a thumbs up and shouted. "You're the best!" When the four of them left together he picked up Sarah and spun her around. He kissed her on the cheek and told her, "You're amazing, you know that?"

Trina had the most incredible waist-to-hip ratio and cafe con leche skin. A beauty mark sat right under her left eye next to her tiny soft nose and thick, delicious lips. She wrapped her arms around him and only came up to his nipple when she rested her head on his chest. They were all singing the song they had just danced to and they're laughter echoed through the empty streets. Theon had a bad feeling suddenly and looked around. Just parked cars and street lights up and down the street. He tried to relax and enjoy himself. He picked up Trina like a white knight rescuing a damsel and rocked her as they kept singing. She squealed and laughed then pulled at his shirt collar. He forgot the bad feeling when she smiled coyly up at him with her shiny chocolate eyes.

"You ok, Ramsay?"

"Yeah, much better now." They were driving away. Damon offered him a cigarette and he took it without saying anything else.

"What is it?! You didn't seem to have any fun at all! This is the best part, you know? When we usually have the best time in the world, but you still look miserable."

"It was personal. That stupid fucking jock threatened my little friend, Theon."

"Alright... well, he's pretty fucking dead now so... you know?"

"What? You want me to do a fucking jig?"

"I've never seen you kill someone like _that_ before. What was that about?" Damon asked nervously.

"Did you like watching? Were you jealous?" Ramsay finally smiled at him, though he was cruelly laughing. Damon frowned and looked away. "Damon, am I important to you?"

 _I knew it! What the fuck did I do?_ "Yes!"

More important than anyone?" Ramsay leveled him with an intense stare.

"Yes." The truth made Damon uncomfortable and he looked away.

"Good. If anything happened to Theon I'd be really upset. Will you help look after him for me?" Ramsay stroked the back of his head and smiled at him.

"Of course. You only have to ask," he answered not looking back. He tried to think of the blood, pleading, and screaming; to feel more than human and not like a needy bitch.

Ramsay pulled him close and kissed his forehead then pushed him away. "You want to go eat? Remind me to get your mom's cigarettes before we go back or I'll forget. Can you believe that asshole cried like a little girl? Holy shit, what a fucking pussy!"

"He hardly fought back at all!" Damon laughed. "He wanted it, fucking faggot!" Damon glowed feeling safely back in Ramsay's bright light.

"Sarah," Theon called out. She pulled away from Rain and reached for her drink on the nightstand beside her while she looked over to him on the other couch, "I think Trina's too drunk."

"No, I... party! Come on! I heard so much 'bout, come on, I'm great, I'm GREAT. Aw, damn it to shit fucking... will I get a second chance orrrrr?" Her eyes were rolling and she swayed.

"I think you're right," Rain said. "I'll put her to bed."

Sarah came over and sat on his lap. She pulled his shirt off and handed him his drink. "You're such a sweetheart. Why don't the three of us smoke out, and then you just lay there looking pretty while we use your body?" She fell into him giggling and unbuttoned his pants.

"Anything you want." He wondered how much he'd have to smoke and fuck just to get those eyes out of his head.


	10. What's Gonna Happen When you Come Down?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is best night of my fucking life."

Theon was so lost in pulsing waves of exquisite pleasure, he wasn't completely sure if he'd said that out loud of if anyone had heard him. It didn't matter. His new soulmate Raina- was that her name?- had promised the pot would be a nice, mellow, body high. "It won't mess up your head, just relax your muscles, nice and chill. And this X is cut with heroin so it's real fucking warm and happy; like bathing in all the love in the universe. It teaches you things, for real, things about _music_."

Sober Theon had made some kind of promise stoned and drunk Theon never agreed to. "Fuck yes! Let's do it!" Sarah didn't feel comfortable and Theon redirected ... was it Rana's?... attention so she wouldn't pressure Sarah into doing something she didn't want to. Her attention was all over him; Sarah was all over her, and it was an enthralling, thrusting, pulsing, pounding, grinding mess he couldn't even make sense of. He felt connected to some higher being and the universe, and every consciousness that had ever lit in the eternally yawning darkness. He asked Sarah why everyone just couldn't love each other all the time like this. Why can't it always be this way? Rhianna told him not to stop and Sarah hummed. He dissolved into the sensations overtaking him. Shimmering vibrations, incredible textures, the music seemed to sing to every cell in his body. He wondered if music had been this all along, so three dimensional he could have sworn he could crawl into it. He melted away on the couch instead; it felt like hours of heaven with no end in sight.

"What was that?!" He sat up his heart racing.

"What, baby?" He wasn't sure who had said it, it seemed to disappear from the air as soon as he turned to look for the words.

"An alarm... or was it..."

"A horn, it's just the music." The voice was floating near his ear. He collapsed but then sat up again remembering his phone; his hand remembered he had to answer the Starks. The phone said 'Ramsay' and his space felt more dangerous. He hit 'reject' on the screen and tried to relax. He realized Rose (right?) and Sarah had become more interested in each other than him and thought it was beautiful.

The phone buzzed and his hand brought it to his face without permission.

**Your boyfriend keeps calling me. Jealous? I told him you had just left and would be there soon.**

"Shit!" He slammed fist, still holding the phone, onto the coffee table. He felt the noise of it, but not the pain.

"What is it?" Sarah asked. Her makeup was smeared, her lips were slightly swollen, she looked incredible.

"I have to go." He groaned. He tried to get up but fell off the couch and Rachel fell on top of him. He crawled out from under her, put on his boxers and jeans then grabbed his shoes, shirt, smokes, phone and keys. "Come on, Sarah. I'm so sorry." Every movement left it's ghosts around him. His body was still swimming. She said she would stay and he couldn't blame her. She pouted as he left and Regina cried out for him. He made a sad face for the two of them as he opened the door then winked and smiled as he ran out it holding his clothes in one arm. Running felt like flying; nothing hurt. He wanted to just run and run until his body fell apart, but he stopped mechanically at his car.

When he got in and started it his phone lit up and buzzed again. Still not Robb; still just Ramsay. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

**Need a ride?**

**no thnx bddy**

_Yeah, thanks, buddy. Just tell him I'm on my way; don't tell him to call me or anything. That's great, that's really fucking great. Fuck!_ He realized he'd blown through a red light. He had to pay attention. He put on the radio and felt like he was playing a video game. He decided the way to win was not to get arrested or killed. Not tonight. It wasn't even midnight when he got to the Stark's house. When he let himself in no one was waiting for him. He was confused and stood in the entrance for awhile. He remembered it wasn't really home, though; no one waited up for him. That was just fine.

**Did you think about me?**

He put the phone on his chest. His little futon never felt so wonderful. He pulled the sheets up over his face as if he could hide from himself and reached into his boxers. He told himself it was just the drugs. He saw those eyes looking right into him, and felt the strong arm hanging heavy around his neck. He hated himself, he didn't care. He saw him leaning down over him smelling a musky kind of sweet, _"stay"_. He told himself it was because he was cut short with the girls. He always needs something more fucked up to get off on. He saw him grabbing his face and leaning in so close _"promise me"_. There were tears in eyes, but his body didn't care below him and he shuddered hard when he peaked and burst. He curled into a tight ball under the sheets and hoped to disappear. Tears rolled down his face. He was a hot then cold, then dry, mess everywhere. He hoped he would forget that tomorrow. He wished this wasn't the first time. He wished he could be clean again.

Robb shook his shook his shoulder and tore his sheets back. The sun barrelled in through his little window; he tried to block it. "Fuck, man. GET UP, Theon. We need to talk."

"What? What time is it? What happened?" He felt like a dried out husk. His jaw ached. It was just night time, what happened?

Robb sat on his futon by his feet and looked out the little window above them. "I need your keys. The doctor who examined you said you shouldn't be driving."

Theon shot up, suddenly horribly awake. "WHAT?!"

Robb closed his eyes for a moment then said, "He said you shouldn't drive alone because we can't know when you'll have a seizure again-"

"But I haven't had one for years! You can't-"

"He also said he thought you were on ecstasy which because your eyes couldn't smoothly follow objects and you were grinding your teeth, but you wouldn't consent to take the test. He said that shit can cause seizures in some epileptics. He brought one over and I want you to take it this morning before breakfast."

"Holy fucking shit... I cannot fucking believe it..." he said under his breath. Robb looked him for a moment with a heavy heart. Theon tried to apologize but when he opened his mouth he realized it was hopeless to try so he just looked at the floor instead.

"I need you to translate some messages for my father. I expect you give them to me tonight. They're on your desk. He said it's phono-something Chinese/" He leaned a little closer. "Do you understand? I can't let you drive... even if you weren't sick..." Theon looked into his eyes and swallowed his guilt. "I can't let a drug addict live among my family."

 _Oh._ Theon smiled. "Phonetic. That's why he couldn't run the characters through a computer. Yes, sir, Mr. Stark, I will get on that right after I try to puke."

"Fuck it, I don't care if you don't want to be my friend, just get through high school and do your work. Ecstasy? Theon! What the fuck were you thinking?! You know too much about my family to be running around pulling this stupid shit! What if you were among enemies?"

 _I think I was._ "I didn't talk about you or your family, Robb. Fuck, I just needed to fucking get laid. I get it, though, I get it. I can't drive alone, but I can drive you around, right? I can run errands for you, or take you siblings where they need to go? I can still go with you while you practice driving, am I right? Hey, Robb, could you do me a favor? If you're going to take my car if you and your family are going to take my only way out of here away from me _again_ , could you just do me the courtesy of paying me for it? Just this once? Please? Just pay me back the money I just spent for absolutely nothing?"

So Theon got three thousand for his car Robb didn't seem to know or care was hardly worth half the price. He took the drug test and tested positive for an opioid, cannabinoid, and MDMA. Robb shook his head and took his keys. "You need to call my father."

He called Kyra first.


	11. Play the Clown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, what are you doing?" He asked into the phone, holed up in his darkened room.

"What are _you_ doing? What happened yesterday? I heard you freaked out and fought Ramsay during in fifth period?"

Theon laughed, "No, that's not what happened. It doesn't matter. How do you know Ramsay?"

"Theon..."

He remembered when he flew to her house a year ago. He didn't even remember driving there; it felt like he stepped out of the house, through his car, and into her's. He had to climb in through her bedroom window. She was blasting metal- a song that would always make him sick they way their song made him ache for her. He found her in the bathroom crying and bloody in on the floor. She kept repeating, " _I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE_." He held her and begged, whispering, " _Please don't leave._ " He tried to clean her up and stop the bleeding. She kept saying, " _He's my father, he's my father, why?_ "

Theon had done everything clumsily with dumb, shaking hands. He brought her ice water; why didn't he just call an ambulance? Because he was such a stupid, cowardly, child. He wished he could ask her to come over now like she had asked him then, but he was still stupid, a cowardly child who just couldn't ask for things.

"This is going to keep happening. He'll go off his meds again, it could be tomorrow or years from now." Kyra had told him afterward. "It's not over, and it's really fucking exhausting. How long are you going to keep caring? "

"Always" is what he had said back.

"Hey, let's just watch a movie together, please? Do you have The Crow?" he asked and looked for his laptop.

"Theon, stop."

"Kyra-"

"We need to talk-"

"... please."

"I can't do this anymore. I've met someone else, I need to move on." Her voice was shaking.

"Ok, that's fine. We're just friends, I don't care! Just watch Monty Python with me, you don't even have to say anything-"

"I can't. We were never 'just friends' - friends don't fuck and sext each other all the time. I love you, I love you too much to keep doing ... whatever this is."

"But, you're my best friend. What do you want? You want me to be your boyfriend? Let's do it! You want me to marry you? Let's elope and just run away together. Far away where these people can't find us," He lowered his voice and turned his back to his bedroom door, "I sold my car for three thousand; let's just leave-"

"Stop it! You always do this when I try to get over you! It's crazy, Theon! I could never marry you; I'd die from worrying! I can't do this anymore; I have to cut you off for my own sake, and I hope for yours."

"NO! No, no, no, don't throw me away! Kyra, please! I'll do better! I never ask you for anything! I'd do anything for you!"

"Except keep your promises. Goodbye, Theon. I love you so, so much." She started weeping before she hung up.

He redialed her number until his calls went straight to voicemail. He held his head in the dark until there was a knock on his door. "Yeah?"

"Hey, come downstairs," Robb opened the door and leaned in. "That doctor is here to do follow up blood work. What are you doing in here?" He flipped the light on and Theon tried to wipe his eyes without being noticed.

"Yeah, alright. I'll be right there." He got out of bed wearing nothing but his boxers. He pulled on jeans and a hoodie while Robb watched in the doorway. "Can I just have a smoke first?" He put on sunglasses to keep the searing brightness at bay.

"You're a real fucking mess you know that? I used to think you were ..."

"Must have been a long time ago, huh?" Theon popped a cigarette in his mouth and a lighter in his pocket. He slid by Robb in the doorway and slapped him lightly twice on the cheek, laughing.

"I looked at those messages," he said when he heard Robb follow him to the balcony. "I still have a lot of work to do but I can tell you it's not native Chinese speakers; I think the one giving the order is English and the one taking it is American. It's written out phonetically with Roman letters, which is lucky for us because I can't read Chinese characters for shit. I still think its just to make it harder to translate. They're using English grammar and idioms. I think the hit is being ordered by an English guy because he stumbles over himself trying to use all this, like, soft language - "wouldn't it" "shouldn't we" "I think I'd rather" "don't you agree'- shit like that, it doesn't work the way he's doing it. I don't know how he's translating into Mandarin but I don't think it's through a native speaker. The other guy sounds American because he's direct, to-the-point, mechanical, blunt. There's no... poetry or metaphors... it's Western and awkward."

He rested against the balcony railing and lit his cigarette. It was cool outside and felt nice on his skin. The first drag was always the best. "Anyway, I have to try to guess what I think they're saying, and might be saying, and put that in a translator then play it out loud to see if it matches so, I think you should get someone else who actually speaks Mandarin. This is time-sensitive, and it's a hit on someone important. If they were using slang or a rural dialect, I'd be so fucked. I really speak conversational Spanish and that's it now. I couldn't remember what ten is in Russian the other day... there was this little nursery rhyme... anyway..." Robb was looking at him with pity and the same disappointment that never left his face when they were speaking. "What?!"

"I wish you were here yesterday. My father had faith that you could do this by tonight."

 _Well, that is fucking insane of him._ "Robb, I only understood several phrases and numbers YEARS ago. Numbers are the easiest part! This is... you know people go to college for this and get paid lots of money... right?" He threw his hands up.

"Come on, you're being rude to the doctor."

Theon put out his cigarette and smiled, "Can't have that; I'm Prince-fucking-Charming."

Robb stopped him before he went back inside, "I miss when you were _you._ "

"And who the fuck is that?" Robb leaned into Theon but then stopped and turned away motioning for Theon to follow.

 

A little man with spindly dry hands was waiting for them in the living room downstairs. "Hello, Mr. Greyjoy. How are we feeling today?"

"Fantastic." He slumped on the couch and put his feet up. "So, you knew I was high after your thorough examination Dr. ..."

"Qyburn. Yes. Take off your jacket and hold out your arm, please. I'm glad you agreed to this yesterday, with your _supposed_ history," he said, practically giggling to himself.

He swabbed Theon's arm and drew two vials of blood. "I'll have your results in about a week. I wouldn't have intercourse, protected or otherwise, until your results come back."

Theon blushed deeply. "I always use protection." Qyburn looked him over in a way that made him feel ill. Theon waited a few moments then followed the doctor to the front door. He looked around and whispered, "What is this? Why did you tell them I'd taken drugs yesterday when I've never so much as heard your name until now? Why are you taking my blood? Why did you tell them I shouldn't drive?!"

"I'll be seeing you," he said grinning, then slinked into a waiting car with blacked out windows. Theon ran his hand through his hair and reached for his phone to call Kyra, but he'd left it inside and his hand only grasped at cold air. He smoked another cigarette and pulled his hoodie tighter around his thin chest. His toes burned with an icy chill on the wet stone entrance. He went inside after he watched the car pulled away.

He called Mr. Stark after looking at the papers and pacing his room for an hour. He said he had talked to Ramsay and he did feel better. Mr. Stark seemed happy for him. Theon missed his calm, thoughtful manner. He missed feeling useful to someone. If not needed or wanted, could he just be useful again? He told Mr. Stark what he thought about the messages and that he would keep working on translating them but Mr. Stark should try to find someone else.

"I think a hit is out for 'The Great Wolf' maybe, do you have any idea what that means?"

Mr. Stark was silent and Theon felt a vague sense of dread. Mr. Stark changed the subject. He sounded proud of Theon. Theon wanted to believe it. He said "yes, sir" and "no, sir" like he had since he was eight years old, and they only said "goodbye" before hanging up.

He put Monty Python and the Holy Grail on his computer and lied on his futon looking at his phone in the dark. He traced his finger over Kyra's name on the screen. Suddenly the phone buzzed; message from Ramsay.

**Miss me?**

He didn't like all the things he felt when he read the message and he saw the name. He put the phone down and tried to think of anything else. He picked it up the next instant and texted:

**how did u no**

**About what?**

**the x**

**Why are you still lying? Why did you break your promise? I thought you'd last longer, so did Rain.**

**i got ur $ - take it & fuck off**

The phone rang, RAMSAY CALLING, he threw it as though it had turned into a snake.

Theon jumped up and went to the bathroom. He started a shower, hoping to wash all the filth away. There was a knock at the door. He threw in open with a growl, but before he yelled, he saw it was just Bran. He knelt a little and said, "What's up, kid? You ok?"

Bran smiled his genuine, kind smile and put a portable phone up to Theon's face, "It's for you, Theon."

"Yeah, it's for you, Theon. I don't like when you ignore me. You taking a shower?" Theon smiled weakly at sweet Bran and slipped back into the bathroom. "Did you get really hot thinking about me?"

"Fuck, man!" he whispered, locking the door and backing away from it. "What the fuck are you doing to me? I have your money, just leave me alone! I'll give it to you Monday. I can't even use my car now, thanks to you. This was all a huge mistake, just take your fucking money and forget you ever met me."

"I've tried that, just like you have. Hasn't worked, has it?"

" _Shut up!_ " Theon whispered. He looked around and sunk to the tile floor. The mirror started fogging above him.

"I told you, I don't want your money."

"What _do_ you want _then_?!"

"What do I want? Tell me. Tell me and I'll leave you alone." His voice was purring. "Lie to me, and I'll make you sorry."

" _I don't know what you want!_ " he lied and tried to cross the tops of his thighs.

"See? You don't want me to leave you alone, you'll even suffer for it." His voice was low and velvety. "Think about me when you take your shower. Think about what I'd do to you and how much you'd like it. See if you can feel me when you do. Goodnight, pet."

Theon put the phone on the sink counter when the line went silent. He let the back of his head hit the wall and rolled his hips. He spread his hands on the wall, trying to keep them far away while he tried desperately to think of those sad Sarah McLachlan commercials with the poor little... the phone rang again but was mercifully answered somewhere else in the house. He had a flash of his wrists being held on the wall, being pulled just a little further apart so he couldn't move.

He rubbed his eyes with both hands and took his towel off to get in the shower. Hot, humid, fog rolled all around him. He tried to think about girls, any of them, but as soon as he had hold of an image or feeling; he saw the monster. He could almost feel it behind him, wrapping around him. It almost didn't feel like his own hand. He came harder than he could remember, then sat on the shower stall floor washing but cleaning nothing.

He 'woke up' still washing himself some time later. He had no idea what happened or how long he'd been there, but the water was cold. Sometimes when he was stressed, tired, and hungry he'd get stuck doing a repetitive motion and 'wake up' sometime later. He'd be wiping the scar on his ribs with his washcloth, and now it was raw. He stood up and turned off the water. When he went into the hallway it was quiet and empty. He fell asleep easily though he was chased by vivid dreams.

The next afternoon when he finally woke up, the house was still just as quiet, and he wondered if he should get up or just go back to bed to hide under the sheets as long as he could.


	12. No Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Theon finally put on pajama pants and went downstairs, he thought for an instant that he smelled coffee brewing and saw the outline of Mr. Stark's shoulder with the newspaper in front of him; but he was completely alone.

Each bedroom was disheveled and vacant. He wrapped his arms around himself and wandered through the big, empty house back to his room. He remembered Christmas mornings when the family would be in the living room unwrapping presents and talking and laughing. He'd be all alone, just like this, and usually go lay in bed, like he was now.

Jon always envied him for being able to appear at parties, he never cared to understand Theon wasn't a guest but a trophy to some and a threatening reminder to others. He never seemed to notice or care that he had a stocking on the fireplace and Theon did not. Now Jon is free and Theon is still a prisoner to people who don't even want him. His phone vibrated.

**You're not doing something stupid are you?**

He ignored Ramsay and texted Robb instead.

**Robb where is everyone?**

He waited for an answer but none came.

**Sansa what's going on?**

Stillness and silence.

He called Mr. Stark then Mrs. Stark but didn't leave messages. He didn't know who else to call. He crawled back into his futon and traced circles on his gray sheets with his finger. When he found he couldn't go back to sleep, he played Princess Bride on his laptop. The house phone rang from the bathroom where he had left it. He jumped up and ran to get it.

"Hello?"

"Why are you ignoring me? What are you doing at the house?"

"I'm not doing anything. What do you want?" Theon murmured. He headed back to bed.

"Do you even know what happened? Did they just leave you there alone and not tell you?" he tried to sound sympathetic but Theon didn't fall for it.

"What happened?! What is it?"

"Oh my god! They seriously just forgot you?! Christ, you're like a houseplant to them, huh?" he couldn't hold back laughing anymore. "I should tell you in person, though, I'll be there in like five minutes."

"No don't-" but he looked at his phone and saw the call had already ended. _Yeah, tell me in person, so I don't have to find out from some asshole._ He ran to Robb's room to look for his car keys. His room was so neat and sparse, it didn't take long to realize they weren't there. He decided to go to Mrs. Stark's room and fill his flask then.

He was waiting in pajama pants and hoodie smoking on the steps leading to the main entrance when Ramsay pulled up in cherry red Shelby Mustang. Theon made a small circle on the cold stone with his bare toes. He blew smoke in Ramsay's direction as he came up the stairs smiling. Ramsay took the cigarette from his mouth and threw it in the grass. He sat beside Theon.

"I hate that smell on you. It's disgusting. Well, you didn't have to get all dressed up for me," Ramsay laughed and pulled up Theon's open hoodie to look at his side. Theon snapped his jacket back and wrapped it around him. "It's cute. So, Eddard Stark is dying. He's in a hospital with his family around him. They don't think he'll make it through the night. He was shot. They called Father but not you. How does that make you feel?" Ramsay leaned in and studied his face. He waited as Theon stared into the distance and lit another cigarette. "Oh, I thought you were going to cry."

"Sorry." Theon looked at his feet. He felt like he had really known already. He took a drag and watched the smoke spiral in on itself as he exhaled. "He wanted me to translate a message for him, I think it was the order to take him out. I told Robb about it... they're just going to hate me even more now. I know he blames me already, that's why they left me here. They aren't going to answer my calls."

"You don't have to stay here. Come with me." Ramsay told him sweetly.

Theon shuddered. "That can NOT be my only option. I could never go back there." He curled in on himself even tighter.

Ramsay took the cigarette from his mouth and took a drag before putting it out. He knew with one word, his _favorite_ word, he could disarm the boy, throwing him into a panic. Then he could just _take_ him. Just pick him up, take him home and keep him. The only thing stopping him was his motherfucking father. He smirked at that description. His puppy was so lost and broken. Theon hugged his knees to his narrow chest and rested his chin on them. His big aqua eyes rolled up to the sky. He was beautiful. Then he lit another cigarette as if Ramsay wasn't even there. Like he was spitting on what Ramsay had asked of him.

Suddenly Ramsay was on him, pressing his back against the cold, damp stone. "What the fuck are you doing?" he growled. He took the cigarette from Theon's mouth and brought it to his pinned thin white arm. Theon tried to pull his hand back but couldn't stop him. He growled through gritted teeth and squirmed when Ramsay put it out on the inside of his wrist. " _STOP FUCKING IGNORING ME._ "

"Fuck you! Get OFF of me!" Theon struggled to push Ramsay, but his wrists were quickly pinned again. He brought his knees under Ramsay's chest and pushed him up with his legs. He twisted his hips to try and throw Ramsay to the side, but Ramsay found footing on the steps and thrust his pelvis between Theon's legs. Theon cried out and started shaking.

"You want to fuck me?" Ramsay whispered. "You wanna try? Or do you want to stop fighting and let me have you? I could make you forget everything else." When Ramsay looked into his eyes, his Reek was gone. No one was there. Ramsay sighed, trembling under the effort to stop himself. He tried to bring the boy back.

 

 

 

***

Little Theon was brought to the Capitol by the Starks just three days after they'd taken him. He attended a party at the Lannister's mansion, still called that despite Robert Baratheon being the actual governor. He was pulled by the shoulders and shown to all the families of the North who had secret dealings with the Lannisters and Baratheons. Every time he rolled his eyes up and craned his neck to see the adult he was being introduced to, they looked at him like he was a wounded tiger cub. The mix of pity, fear, and sympathy made him sick. _I didn't do anything to any of you._

At last, he was allowed to go in the basement game room with some of the other kids. He hadn't even been able to eat dinner. None of the kids wanted to talk to him, and he didn't feel like doing anything but staring at the floor, trying to remember the sound and feel of walking on the beach. He received a swift kick to his thigh.

"Hey! Leave me alone!" He shouted up at the boy who did it. He had dark wavy hair and cold pale eyes.

"What's so special about you?!" The boy demanded. "Why are you the guest of honor? No one even noticed me!" He kicked Theon again.

"Ow! Well, I'm the only one you're kicking, so I guess that's pretty special." The boy smiled and relaxed his fists. "I'm not a guest. I'm like a prize to show around. Sorry if I ruined your moment. I don't think they liked my pretty smile very much." He grinned as big as he could and the boy laughed and sat next to him. "Do you?"

"No, you're stupid teeth are all crooked and your eyes are too big for your head."

"Yeah?" He smiled slightly. "Well, you have eyes like a dead person."

"You've seen a corpse?!" the boy leaned in and his eyes danced.

"Dead guys? Yeah. I try to forget, but I see them sometimes. Sometimes I can't remember what they looked like alive." He reached down for his shoestring and wrapped it around his finger. "Have you?"

"Yeah, I don't want to forget, though! It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen! Hey!" they boy came closer. "I'm Ramsay. We're friends now!"

"I don't think I'm supposed to have friends. They haven't let me around other kids until now."

"I don't give a SHIT!" Ramsay's face lit up when he said it. His cheeks were rounder then, and his nose was softer. He almost had a cherubic face, except for his sharp, malicious eyes.

"That's a swear!" Theon whispered looking around. He was afraid to get in trouble with the killers who stole him in the middle of the night, but he giggled anyway. It may have been from nervousness.

Ramsay punched his arm and his wicked eyes smiled. "Hey, you want some candy? I know where big, fat, sweaty, Robert keeps more candy than you've ever seen." Theon chewed his lip and looked away nervously. "What? You want to stay here with these losers?" Robb, little Joffrey and Sansa, and some of the creepy Frey kids looked at them. "That's right! You're all stupid and boring... ASSES!" Theon giggled while his face and neck flushed with hot red blotches. Ramsay beamed down at him, grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the door.

"HEY! Stop it! He is NOT your friend he's MINE you... stupid WEIRDO!" Robb shouted at him puffing his little chest out.

Theon was confused, Robb hadn't said a word to him yet. He looked enough like his serious father to scare Theon back then, but Ramsay just laughed and shoved Robb by his outraged face. Ramsay looked back at Theon as he ran, pulling the boy along. Theon was laughing and still blushing. Ramsay never had a friend before and decided to keep him.


	13. No Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay lead him up the stairs and snuck him from the stairwell to a long hall.

They heard grownups laughing and talking, a man shouting above everyone, but no one saw them. At the end of the hall, they took another set of stairs that spiralled up. Theon worried and tried to slow down, but Ramsay just turned back smiling and pulled his wrist harder.

They came to a landing and Ramsay stopped at the door on the right. It was dark and things seemed to dance when Theon strained to make them come into focus.

Ramsay pulled something from his pocket and put his ear against the door while he fidgeted below the doorknob. In less than five minutes there was a click and the door slowly drifted into the black room. Theon swallowed hard when Ramsay pulled him in and shut the door behind them.

"Why are you locking it?" He whispered.

"In case someone comes, stupid. I have to do something for Father, then we can get some candy," Ramsay whispered back. He grabbed Theon's wrist and lead him through the blackness. "Wait here."

"I used to do work for my dad. I always hated it. Why do you say 'Father' to me? I remember seeing you with him. You came to my house in first grade for another stupid party. You yelled at some people, 'Don't you know who _my father_ is?!' Why do you say 'Father' to me like he's mine." Theon asked the noises across the room.

"Huh. I didn't think about it. I guess... you're mine now, so... I don't know. Are your eyes adjusting?"

"Not really. I think... maybe I should go back." He wanted to say he wasn't Ramsay's and didn't like the dark anymore. He wanted Ramsay to promise he wasn't going to kill him. Is that what he was here for? Was everyone looking at the last Greyjoy before Roose Bolton sent his son to kill him? No, Mr. Stark said he would do it, why would they ask a little boy?

Theon was still scared. He wished his sister was with him. He wished he could be sure she was ok.

"I got it! I'm trying to open the candy closet now. It's a whole closet! I'm not even joking! My mom says carrots are good for seeing at night, you should eat those." A door opened. "Ok, I'm going to open the blinds a little so we can see what he has." Theon breathed a little easier. He was suddenly grabbed by his neck from behind. "HEY! Did I scare you?"

Theon shook, struggling not to cry. "Yeah, it isn't too hard to do," he tried to laugh. He thought about running to Yara's room in darkness like this when he'd had a nightmare and wondered if he'd ever have a safe place to run to again. Soft light flooded the room and suddenly outlines of objects appeared.

Ramsay took his wrist again and lead him to the large open door. "Come on! Wanna treat? I think we can turn on the closet light. If someone comes, we can turn it off before they open the door. Theon was startled by flash. Even with his eyes closed he saw a harsh red light until his eyes adjusted.

When he opened them Ramsay was grinning with his arms spread out in a walk-in closet filled with all kinds of sugary foods. He'd only had sweets like this when his mother took the kids to visit their uncle. Theon's father hated anything that could make him even softer. Theon laughed realizing this all belonged to that giant governor everyone seemed so afraid of. Ramsay laughed with him. "Well? You like it?"

"It's so cool! It's crazy!" They both spun around looking at everything and kept giggling.

"Well? What do you want?"

Theon smiled his goofy, lopsided, sunshine smile and shrugged.

"Here! I'll pick some for you! Everyone likes chocolate; try this. This one is good too. It's chocolate and almond butter; it sounds weird but it's great. Wait, wait! Before you try anything else, try this with me! It's an atomic sourball. Let's both take one and see who can last the longest without making a face! Ready?"

Theon bent over a little laughing, "What? That sounds so gross! Ok, you count to three and then we'll do it."

They both unwrapped the sourballs and put them in front of their mouths.

"One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three!" They each popped it in and laughed through closed mouths. Theon's eyes got huge and then squinted. Ramsay's just smiled back. Theon shook his head and looked up at the ceiling trying to fight it. Ramsay's head rolled back giggling. Theon's eyes screwed shut and his mouth pursed up tight. He chewed the ball and swallowed it. "You win! You win!"

Ramsay unwrapped a chocolate and held it to his mouth, "Here! Try this, quick!" Theon ate half out of his hand in one quick bite and reeled from how sweet it was.

"Good, right?" Ramsay ate the other half. "It's so good after the sourball," he said with his mouth full. "Too bad we don't have water. Are you going into second grade?"

Theon shook his head. "Third."

Ramsay opened the chocolate almond bar. "Oh. Me too. I could be in fourth but I was suspended. Have you ever been suspended?"

"I don't think so."

"It's not too bad, except I have to do third grade again. I have to see a doctor and be a little nicer each time I see her, and tell her a lot of shit and act like, 'Oh wait, I think I finally see-' then tell her something she's said like a million times."

"Oh." Theon licked chocolate off his thumb. "Is she nice?"

Ramsay looked at him like he'd spoken Arabic. "I... guess. Try this now." He held out the unwrapped bar to Theon's mouth. Theon went to grab it but Ramsay pulled it back. "Hey, you wanna play a game? You should pretend to be my puppy!"

Theon had a bad feeling in his stomach and wanted to run away. He looked around. The light of the closet made the rest of the room seem black again. He wasn't sure how to unlock the door. He felt like there were tiny hot needles running up his back and on his tongue. "Um... I have to go to the bathroom."

"Don't look so scared. I'll take you. Then we'll come back, and you'll play with me, right?"

Theon tried to say something but his face was hot and his mouth was dry. A loud voice and shrill giggling echoed up the stairwell. Ramsay jumped up to switch off the light and slowly shut the closet door. He took Theon's wrist and lead him to the back corner of the closet, behind a plastic bin. "Don't worry," he whispered. "He won't come in here. He's with some slut."

"What's a slut?" Theon whispered back.

"It doesn't matter. He's drunk and he'll be busy with her. We just have to wait. It won't take long." Ramsay was just a voice in the dark and a hand on Theon's wrist now.

The doorknob jiggled, Robert swore and finally a sharp click, then the door was thrown open and slammed shut. A soft light peaked in under the closet door. The woman giggled and cooed. He seemed to growl and hiccup. They started laughing less and breathing heavier. There was the sound of clothes rustling, a gasp, and moaning. Theon trembled.

"Are you scared?" Ramsay whispered in his ear. "It's ok. He's not going to hurt you, I won't let him." Ramsay pulled Theon to him and pet his head. The churning pain in Theon's stomach stabbed at him with every touch.

"I am scared. I'm sorry," he whispered. He was crying already. He didn't like these Northern men; cold killers who took things.

Theon was supposed to be a great fighter, he was supposed to make men like these afraid. He was told often that he came from a long line of fighters. Greyjoys have to be good at killing and fucking, but he didn't understand any of it. His dad often said he should have been the girl and Yara his youngest boy. His father would always take a drink and console himself out loud that at least he had two _real_ sons.

"It's alright. I'll protect you. You don't have to be afraid," Ramsay said, so close Theon could feel the warmth of his breath on his neck. He let himself fall into Ramsay's chest and closed his eyes.


	14. In the Depths of Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were huddled tightly together in dark, Ramsay ran his fingers through Theon's hair and whispered, "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry! Am I too loud?" Theon whispered back. He was trying so hard to be quiet.

"No, it's, ok. They're too loud to hear us. Are they scaring you?" The boy was curled up against him trembling, it made Ramsay feel something wonderful he had no word for, so he called it love. "Don't you know what they're doing?"

"Is he killing her?" Theon squeaked.

"No. They're trying to make each other feel good. It is a lot like pain, but the opposite. No one's going to hurt you, I promise. Here, I'll show you so you won't be scared. _This is how you make someone love you._ You have to be very quiet, okay?" Theon jumped and pulled away but Ramsay just held him tighter. "Don't struggle. If you're not quiet they'll hear you."

" _Please..._ " Theon gasped and froze.

"You don't like it?" Ramsay rubbed his face against Theon's neck.

His breath, arm, and hand were so warm. There was a pressure and strange ache below him, a screaming in the silence which hung around them.

"See? You do like it."

Theon twitched and stuttered under sensations and feelings he couldn't handle. Then he was watching himself, feeling too much and nothing at once. His body flushed and swayed to the touch without him. He was making strange sounds like he'd forgotten how to breathe.

"Do you love me now?"

Theon could only whine.

"Tell me you're mine, then I can just rub your back and pet your head, ok? Would you like that better?"

Theon nodded against his chest. "I'm yours," he whispered. He could taste the tears in his mouth.

He tried to think about swimming at his uncles. The sun sparkling on the cresting and falling water, birds flying and squawking out as they swooped down to the shore, running with the sand receiving his feet so softly, the sound that lulled him to sleep at night through the open window, the windy humid air, the taste of the sea water. It was warm and salty like this.

"Forever?"

"I'm yours forever," Theon promised. He shuddered when Ramsay pulled his hand away and kept trembling as Ramsay pet his head. He didn't think 'forever' would last very long; not for him.

Ramsay pulled Theon into his lap and tried to cradle him.

It was nice to be held and he didn't mind feeling sick and scared that much. He hadn't felt any better for days, and he was so tired. It would be over soon, he'd just get through it and then it would be done. It was going to be ok, because... it just _had_ to be. There was nowhere else to go. Nothing better for him.

Ramsay tried to comfort him until Robert and the woman left. They waited about five minutes before Ramsay opened the door and looked around. He led Theon out back to a large living room with a bar at the far end where are the grownups passed over them. Ramsay stopped at his creepy father who had his same dead man's eyes. They seemed to say something to each other with a looks Theon could not interpret.

"This is my friend, Theon. Can he come over?"

"You have a _friend_?" Roose lowered himself to study Theon. "I don't think the Starks are willing to part with him yet, but I'll ask for you. I know they want to send him away for the holidays. Wouldn't want to ruin Christmas for their children. You'll be back with me for the holidays, Ramsay." Roose turned to his son and lowered his voice,"You understand what a favor means?" He straightened himself and looked down at Ramsay dispassionately.

"Yes, Father. Come on, Theon," he dragged Theon off again smiling even more brightly than before, "we can go watch a movie in one of the guest rooms!"

Theon whined and tried to think of something to say or do, but couldn't think of anything better than letting himself be pulled along.

Ramsay put on an old goofy movie about an airplane making a crash landing. It was so ridiculous from the second it started, Theon found he was able to laugh with Ramsay. The room was lit by the television's twilight hues, it didn't feel like the closet at all. Ramsay stayed close to him but acted like they were best friends and nothing strange or bad had happened. Theon was very good at that kind of pretend.

His family pretended like that at dinner when his father was ranting and throwing things. "What did you learn at school today, Theon?" Or when his mom went to the hospital for weeks at a time. He knew never to mention it, or even her, not even to Yara.

Ramsay watched his new toy thaw while they laughed at the movie. He tried to study how the boy reacted to everything so he could learn what to do with him. He'd never had to take care of person before and he took it very seriously. He didn't understand when his father said they couldn't take Theon home.

"But they don't even _want_ him, and _I DO!_ " he growled from the backseat on the way home. His father's eyes laughed at him through the rearview mirror. Ramsay threw Baratheon's USB drive at him. Roose pulled the car over and turned around to face him.

"Is there something you want, Ramsay?"

Ramsay smiled back _everything_ "To give you what you wanted. Aren't you happy with me?"

"Is there something else you wanted?" his father's words reverberated like pounding steel.

"No."

"Are you sure? That was rude."

"I'm sure..." He looked out the window and wondered where his puppy was? "I'm sorry." His father pulled back onto the road. They drove home in silence. Ramsay wondered when he would see his Theon again and what he could do with him.

Eddard didn't notice any difference in the already traumatized child's demeanor, but Cat knew the look on his face in her heart. He was changed since that Bolton boy dragged him back to them. She wasn't allowed to care about the boy. She didn't even know if anything had happened or what it might have been. She had no evidence whatsoever. She didn't say anything when her husband said the Bolton's could take him over Christmas break. No one wanted the suffering boy with the sad eyes to watch them open presents, bake their cookies, do their shopping. It was too terrible to think about.

But she knew she could have said something. She still thought about it on the rare times when he acted out, or when his eyes spilled their misery on to her so selfishly. She told herself she just didn't know what to say. She had no proof, he never said anything to her. What was she supposed to do? It was easy enough to believe the things she told herself until he was thirteen. She ran upstairs to yell at Jon to get his lazy ass up or he would miss the bus again and saw Theon entering his little room with wet hair and a towel around his waist, and there was an enormous raised, snow white X across his bony ribs. She told Ned and watched him ask Theon about it. The boy struggled to come up with a lie and finally said he did it himself. The shame, defeat, and far away stare were hard for her to ignore. She told herself she had to try and forget about it. It was too late to help him anyway. It had been too late to help Theon since Eddard had brought him home.


	15. Fists are Lined with Suckers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning Theon left to stay at the Bolton Estate he woke up to the smell of coffee brewing.

He already knew to get up when he smelled it and head to the kitchen while the other kids, the ones that belonged here, slept. He knew to get Mr. Stark his coffee, he remembered how to make it. He helped Mrs. Stark make breakfast and set the table. He never complained, or said much of anything. On weekdays, he'd help make lunches and get the kids moving. They would snap at him just like they snapped at their parents. They seemed to hate Theon because he was an extension of their father, but Theon couldn't understand what was so horrible about Mr. Stark for his children. Years later he'd finally be comfortable enough to ask Robb, the only child who seemed respectful to his parents, why the other kids seemed so angry and needy. Robb just smiled and said they were spoiled.

This morning was very early, no one else was around. Mr. Stark didn't talk very much, but he didn't seem to mind Theon. Robb didn't either, not like the others. Still, sometimes he would walk into the living room or maybe the dining room, and they'd be laughing or fighting and just stop as soon as they saw him. He felt like he should apologize all the time, as if he had broken into this house and never left. He secretly thought Mr. Stark liked the way Theon listened to him. He never had to Theon something twice. A smile would softly lift his heavy features when Theon was ready with a newspaper or his car keys before he even asked. Theon's little jobs were much easier then, and he was glad to have some kind of purpose.

Today in the dark, chilly early hours, Mr. Stark was overly-cheery. Theon was too afraid of Mr. Stark to ask anything of him, but he wished he could ask not to go alone to Ramsay's house. Every time he thought about it the excitement he tried to ignore was pulled down under a tide of nausea. Mr. Stark didn't say very much on the ride there. He told Theon to be good, and respectful like he had been for the Starks. He assured Theon in his calm, steady, voice that he'd be picked up after New Years. When they pulled up to the looming black gate, Ned turned around to face him and said, "There might be a present for you in the trunk. If you want, you can save it for Christmas."

Theon tried to hide behind Mr. Stark as he rang the doorbell. He wasn't sure this place would be worse than the Stark's, he was more afraid of change than anything. He just needed to know what to do to keep from being shot in the night. The door flew open and Ramsay jumped out at him. "Hi, buddy! Come on!" He grabbed the rolling suitcase next to Theon and threw the backpack at his feet over his shoulder. He smiled broadly with shining eyes and grabbing Theon's wrist, pulled him away. He never even looked at Mr. Stark.

Roose came to the door shortly. He liked the startled look on Eddard's naive face. "Ramsay's quite fond of the boy," he said almost to himself, looking behind him. He turned back to Eddard and tried not to laugh at him. "Did you need something else?"

"No, I suppose not. Thank you, Roose."

"Mr. Stark." Roose smiled and shut the door. It's not what Ned had expected, but he was ready to leave anyhow. Now was better than one second later.

The Stark's house was always busy, messy, chaotic, and fairly loud. Theon would take sanctuary in his little room. He tried to make it feel safe and quiet. After a month or so, in sank in that he wasn't leaving so he tried to make it his own, taping pictures of pirate ships he drew himself with crayons. Ramsay's home was quiet and bare. He felt it was obvious only men lived her. Everything seemed hard, utilitarian with clean lines. A smooth, clean, industrial feel pervaded the sprawling estate. Theon had never seen anything like it. The rooms were open and the ceilings high, and there were few doors or windows. Theon didn't have too much time to take in the downstairs, Ramsay had him running upstairs to his room; which was more like his own floor.

Ramsay had his own game room across from his bedroom, a kind of nook in the hall had an unstocked bar and mini-fridge, he had his own balcony, fireplace, and bathroom in his bedroom. The bathroom alone was about the size of Theon's room. Arya had laughed when she poked her head once and told him it used to be a closet but he didn't believe her. Ramsay's bed was huge, like his television and his desk. It didn't look very lived-in; something was off, but it was all impressive to him.

"You like it?!" Ramsay noticed.

"It's so ... much! Wow." Theon looked his backpack and suitcase sitting beside the bedroom door Ramsay had closed behind him. "Am I staying in the room down the hall?"

Ramsay frowned. "No. That's Domeric's room. He doesn't share with anybody. He'll probably come back on winter break so you have to stay away from there."

"Oh." Theon rubbed the back of his neck.

"You wanna play a game?" Ramsay asked, coming closer.

Theon backed away, "Like what?"

"Mario Kart?" Ramsay gestured towards his television and Theon relaxed.

"Oh! Ok, I don't think I've played that one before." Theon had only seen commercials for games like that; games a parent had to buy.

"Good! I like winning." Ramsay smiled at him without a cloud on his sunny horizon.

Theon smiled back, "Good, 'cause I probably suck." Ramsay laughed. "I have- uh, I mean, my dad always liked my older brothers a lot more than me. Do you like Domeric?"

"I thought they were younger than you," Ramsay said, changing the settings on his sound system.

"Ha, I'm never anyone's favorite; doesn't matter who I'm up against." He looked out towards the balcony.

Ramsay grabbed his shoulder and appeared in front of his face. "Except for the most important person." He leaned in expectantly.

Theon thought a moment. "Me?" Ramsay burst out laughing and shook his head. "Um... God?"

Ramsay laughed harder and said, "Yeah, I'll be your god." He kind of waggled his eyebrows with a wide, slack smile that made Theon giggle, then went back to setting up the game.

Theon leaned on the foot of Ramsay's bed and took his shoes off. "Your house is so quiet. It's nice. Do you have a lot of friends come over?"

Ramsay sighed. "I _guess_. It's really just children I'm supposed to keep occupied and two poor kids who, like, worship me." Theon couldn't tell if he was kidding or not. "Usually, Father drags me downstairs and says, 'Here, Ramsay, you can use all the nice things I bought you to entertain my friend's children. They're _almost_ your age.' It's not like hanging out with you."

"Oh my god, Ramsay! You looked just like him! Can you do someone else?"

Ramsay turned around grinning and jumped up looking very tired. "Now, Theon, I know you won't let that Bolton boy be a bad influence on you. Get me a drink, would you? And try to look more miserable when you come back."

Theon sank to the floor he was laughing so hard. "Mr. Stark! How do you do that? Your whole face and body changed and everything! One more! One more!"

"Oh," Ramsay crossed his arms and looked Theon up and down curling his nose. He made a half-hearted attempt at a fake smile and barely extended his hand, "Hello, so nice to see you. If you'd like to be a dear and gouge your eyes out with a hot poker, that would be lovely," He murmured then rolled his eyes and turned away.

"The governor's wife?!"

"Yeah!" Ramsay tossed him a control and sat next to him. "We'll probably order pizza tonight. Do you like pepperoni?" Theon smiled and nodded. It was nice to be asked if he would like something. "Good. After we eat we can play another game. Are you good at hide-and-go-seek?"

"Um, I don't know." He chewed on his bottom lip. "Your house seems kind of... scary," Theon said trying to laugh.

"Ha, yeah. You should see the basement." Then he turned to Theon slowly, his eyes dancing. "Do you want to?"


	16. A Famine in Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not really that brave," Theon confessed, looking away. "I thought I was once, but I was just a stupid little kid."

"You're still a little kid," Ramsay said leaning over to try to catch his attention. He seemed so far away, it was annoying.

"I know I'm still little," Theon looked at his hands holding the controller, "but I don't _feel_ like a kid anymore. Don't you feel that way? You don't act like other kids."

"I'm trying to act like a kid but it's hard. Anyway, we should go to the basement. I'll be with you. We can sneak in around one in the morning. Father's usually passed out pretty good by then."

"No, please, I don't want to get in any trouble! I know I'm a big coward, but, seriously, your dad is..." he looked over to see if Ramsay would be offended. A smile crept up on his face and then Theon's. "Aren't you a little scared of him?"

Ramsay seemed to think about it. "Well, I think... if I was afraid of anyone, it would be him. I can't think of anyone that makes my eyes go big, or my hands shake, or my breath gets fast. Father's trying to help me act like other people. That's why I see that doctor," he smiled to himself, " I have to figure out how to convince her that she's helping me with my problems. You lie like that, don't you? You pretended to be brave at that party, you acted like you were a little Prince when you were introduced to everyone. You did a good job lying to your parents about that night. I thought I was gonna hate your guts, but then you didn't lie to me and I realized you weren't a little Prince after all."

"No, I didn't try to lie to you. I don't know why really. I guess I wanted you to stop kicking me."Theon laughed while Ramsay smiled and studied him. "You're not... I don't know." Theon rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. He tried to smile and shrug as if he didn't know what he was trying to say.

"What? I'm not like what?"

"I don't know!" Theon forced a nervous laugh.

Ramsay crawled in front of him and they locked eyes. "Not like _what_?"

"Like... other people. I don't think you want... bullshit? _People_ do."

"Oh! A swear!" Ramsay seemed to explode in happiness. He punched Theon in the stomach and laughed. "Come on, let's play again! Maybe you can actually finish a race this time." He rolled back beside Theon. They each sat on the floor with their backs to the foot of Ramsay's bed.

They played for hours, having a good time. Ramsay got up to use the bathroom and rushed to the window instead. "Theon," he called over, "Come here, quick! Look at this!" Theon came over and looked out the window. He didn't understand at first and squinted at the sky. Ramsay smiled brightly and pulled him by his wrist to the balcony. He threw open the door and swung Theon out.

"It's snowing?" Theon said looking all around. "It's just like in movies! Look at all the Christmas trees in your yard!"

Ramsay giggled a little, looking ecstatic. "They're pine trees, stupid!"

"It's amazing! It's really IS like a snow globe! Look how big the flakes are! They kind of float like feathers; I thought snow would fall more like rain," Theon said, almost under his breath. For whatever reason, he never thought he'd see snow in person. He thought it was for other people; people with family's somewhere far away who drank hot cocoa, had happy dinners, and sat around fireplaces. He turned to Ramsay, who wasn't looking at the snow, or the trees. His snowflake eyes seemed to sparkle. They both kind of laughed. A shining elation bubbled up and floated around them.

"Do you want to go play outside after we eat?" Ramsay said. His intense eyes were locked on Theon's.

"So much! Can we eat now? Would you want to?" Theon stared straight up in the air and spread his arms. The fat, lazy flakes drifted happily down everywhere he looked. He got lost in their softly spiralling march until he could hardly tell which way was up. He felt, for an instant, that he lost the Earth underneath him. Ramsay took both of his hands. He looked at the boy, his winter eyes were so close now.

"Theon, I want to take you out and show you the snow. I want you to have a great time... and then I want you to do something for me." Theon took a step back but Ramsay held his hands firmly. "I just want you to play a game _I_ want to play, ok? We'll do something you want, and then something I want. Then we can watch a movie or show; you even can pick which one." A small whine escaped Theon. A wince started to crinkle his face and seemed to freeze it that way.

He wanted to believe it was just a normal night, with a friend, like a kid his age should have. He wanted to trust Ramsay's casual smile. He didn't want to be a coward. Yet, all the things he wanted to be and wanted to believe melted away before the fire raging in Ramsay's hungry expression. Even his ice grey eyes seemed to burn. He squeezed Theon's hands until it started to hurt as his smile became more malicious. Theon understood that it wasn't a question of what they were going to do, but what Ramsay would have to do to get what he wanted. He was only asking if Theon would fight or give in; they were already playing a game.

Theon's knuckles were hurting under the pressure, Ramsay was looking less compassionate and more domineering every second Theon waited to answer. He finally broke Ramsay's gaze letting his eyes fall to his feet and said defeatedly, "Ok, Ramsay."

Ramsay grinned and released his hands but, just as quickly, grabbed Theon's wrist and pulled him back inside. After they watched a show, a housekeeper knocked on the door and told them food was ready. They ate pizza downstairs. The housekeeper said Ramsay's father was on an important business call, and scurried away quickly. After they ate, Ramsay did lead Theon into the backyard. Looming trees seemed to stretch out all around them forever. There were about three inches on the ground already, Theon was astonished. He took a few steps in it.

"It crunches!" He kicked it and it flew up like powder. He was hit in the side by something that dissolved on impact. He spun to see Ramsay laughing and making another snowball. So Theon decided to enjoy this moment, whatever it was, however long it would last, and get through whatever came next somehow.


	17. Do You Love Me Like I Love You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason it hadn't struck Theon that the soft dancing powder was only ice afterall.

Theon reached down to make a snowball and was surprised at how powdery the slivers of ice felt in his bare hands. He was hit it the head with another bursting snowball.

"Ah!" Theon yelled, but he was laughing. "You got my ear! Oh! It's all wet and cold!"

"Yeah, I'm a great shot!" Ramsay laughed, making another. Theon tried to roll the snow into a ball but it fell apart and he was hit in the stomach. "Wait, wait, I'll come show you!" Ramsay yelled to him over the wind and through the flying, glittering specs of snow swarming between them. He rushed over and came up behind Theon. "Grab a bunch of snow. Ok, now you, like, pack it in tight together. You have to get the air out and make it melt a little when it's a fine powder like this." He took Theon's hands and showed him, then jumped away and ran back a few feet. "Now try," he yelled.

Theon tried and hit Ramsay's chest. Ramsay shot two thumbs up in the air. Theon ran over to him. "Can we make a snowman?!"

Ramsay grabbed Theon's hands and looked at how red they were then looked up, smirking. "I should give you gloves to do that. We can do it tomorrow when there's more snow and it's more sticky. You should go warm your hands. Common!" Ramsay put an arm around Theon's shoulder and guided him to the patio door.

Theon's heart sank and he stopped in front of the door. "You want to go in already?"

"Aw, your bug eyes look so sad. Don't be sad. If you're good, we'll play outside more tomorrow." Ramsay titled his head towards the door he held open.

"Good? I-" Theon stopped when Ramsay's hand gripped him by the back of the neck. _Oh, right, you aren't really asking._ Though his nose, ears and cheeks had just been freezing, his face suddenly felt warm. His stomach twisted and his chest ached. "Ok, Ramsay." He swallowed and, looking at the floor, let Ramsay push him by his neck back inside.

When Ramsay shut the door things were suddenly warm, still, and quiet. They took off their shoes and walked through a dining room to the kitchen. Theon could still smell pizza and hear the television they'd left on upstairs. It seemed like a real home. "Hey, are your hands starting to hurt?" Ramsay said from the kitchen sink. They were. He looked how red his hands were and they started throbbing. "Come here, I'll show you what to do." Theon went to the sink where Ramsay was running water. "Here!" Ramsay grabbed his wrists and put his hands under hot water.

"OW! Ow! It hurts! It hurts!" Theon pulled his hands away and tried to shake them, then went to tuck them under his arms but stopped; he couldn't think of anything to make it better.

Ramsay was bent over giggling. He looked up at Theon then straightened himself. "You just have to wait it out. It sucks. Look, it hurts me too." He stuck his hands out, and they were even more red than Theon's, but he didn't look bothered at all. He took Theon by the wrist again and pulled him out the kitchen. It was dark now, only lights from the kitchen and from street lamps peering in from the few windows lit their way.

Theon felt frustrated enough to stop. Ramsay looked back at him, his eyebrows were raised, his eyes were glowing. Theon whispered, "You don't have to do that," and tried to pull his wrist away. Ramsay pulled back hard enough for Theon to stumble forward. He looked up at Ramsay's winter eyes and found began to find it harder to breathe. Ramsay came towards him and Theon backed away until he his back hit a wall.

"What?" Ramsay nearly growled, leaning down into his face. He tilted his head and moved his shoulders to follow Theon's gaze when he tried to look away. " _What did you say_?"

"Nothing," Theon whispered. He remembered meeting Ramsay when he came with his creepy father to Theon's old house in The Keys. It felt like another life someone else had lived. His dad was getting loud and angry, his mother was shriveling under her nerves and embarrassment. Ramsay had stopped Theon as he tried to leave the grownup's party and shoved him against the wall. He asked, "Where are you going?" Theon looked in his eyes and said, "Nowhere." They stared at one another for a moment, then Theon hurried back to the party. He'd had a seizure at that night in front of everyone, and didn't remember much else but waking up in the middle of the night. His mother was sleeping in a chair beside his bed, illuminated by his pirate ship nightlight. It was the best memory he had of her and he kept it close to his heart.

Ramsay ran his thumb across Theon's cheek and Theon came back to himself. "You ok, space cadet?" Ramsay asked in a low voice. Theon nodded. "You're going to do what I say now, right? Then, before we go to sleep, you can pick a funny movie to watch, ok?" Theon nodded again. Ramsay swept some hair off his forehead then smiled and pulled him through the house until they came to a padlocked door. Ramsay pulled something out of his pocket and began working to open it.

"I thought you said we should wait until after midnight," Theon whispered leaning down.

"It's fine. I know what a 'business call' means." A sharp click and the door swung open. The same warm pressure wrapped around Theon's wrist and pulled him downstairs into chilly blackness.

Theon pulled closer to Ramsay and held his arm with his free hand. "I can't see anything. Isn't there a light down here?" he whined. After they walked a bit Theon heard a clink and the sickly glow of a fluorescent light sputtered on. Theon's eyes adjusted slowly. Looking around he mostly saw a smooth cement floor with a large drain in the middle, and darkness all around. Then he made out a tool box, a trolley tray, a locked cabinet, and a cage.


	18. Blue-Black Bracelets on My Wrists and My Ankles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you trust me?"

Theon looked into his eyes and considered the question. His mind screamed _NO_ but parts below said _yes_ and pushed his forehead to Ramsay's chest. He should be fighting. What would his father think? _He'd kill you. He should. I should have died in my brothers' place. Let the monster kill me, I deserve it._ Ramsay wrapped his arms around Theon and rubbed his face against Theon's soft, wavy hair. Theon didn't know what he felt or what was happening, but his body did and cried for him. " _Please don't hate me. If you're going to kill me just do it, but please don't hate me. I need one person to like me, please._ "

"I would never kill you, stupid. I don't hate you," Ramsay lifted his face and began to push him by his shoulders backwards through the dark, "I love you. I know you don't love me back, but you _will_. I'll make you, and then we'll be so happy." Theon's back hit paper and plywood. Ramsay pressed his forehead to Theon's and grabbed his wrist. He pulled his face back, smiling maniacally, he locked Theon's right wrist into a strap, then grabbed his left.

"What- what are you doing?!" Theon tried to yell, but it shook out of him as a hoarse whisper. 

"I won't hurt you. I just want to talk to you," Ramsay purred in his ear. He locked the other wrist to the board. Theon was quiet, but tears streamed down his cheeks and his legs barely supported him. His arms were pulled so far apart he could hardly move. 

Ramsay moved from the pool of flickering light the fluorescent lamp bleed into a dark corner. Theon heard a high pitched screeching and whining. Ramsay came back pushing a metal trolley tray into the light. He pulled a handful of short, symmetrical knifes off the table. The handles were nearly the width of the blades, curving in at the center. 

Theon drew sharp, quick. His chest ached in tight, hot, throbbs as it heaved. When Ramsay took one in his right hand and held it at eye-level, pointing behind him, Theon started trying to pull out of the strapps binding him. His struggles only made his wrists raw. 

"So," Ramsay tensed, "do you trust me?" 

A knife slammed into the board inches from Theon's ribs. "Yes!" he cried. He shuddered and tried to be brave.

"Yeah? Do you understand that I love you?" A knife slammed into the board by his hip. 

"Yes! I understand!" He started twisted his left hand around pulling his thumb in tight against his palm and slowly, painfully, started to pull it out of the restraints when I knife plowed into the board so close to his hand, it vibrated with the blade. 

"Don't move." Theon stopped and rolled his head around to look at the monster with the shining eyes in front of the spasming greenish light. "You belong to me. I need you to know. Tell me." A knife thrust into the board with another slam, inches from his heart. "Tell me you're mine forever." Theon squeezed his eyes shut and wished it all away. A knife slammed into the board so close to his ear the sound stayed, reverberating there. "Say it. Tell me, just like you did before."

"I'm yours! I'm yours forever! I swear! Only and forever yours!" Theon yelled, shivering, shaking. 

Ramsay came towards him, knife in hand, until his nose nearly touched Theon's. Theon tried to struggle away from him, without an inch to move. "You understand then? No more pretending, Theon. You're mine. You're my sweet little pet, my treasure, my friend. If you fight me, I might have a 'fit' and that can't happen with you. I can't lose you, so just be good for me and we'll have a good time." Theon whined and started sobbing. "I know it hurts now, but you'll get used to it and then it will feel so good for you. It will feel as good as it feels bad now. Then you'll really love me and forget everyone else." He pressed his palm lightly to Theon's cheek and kissed his mouth. It was wet and light. His eyelashes fluttered briefly on Theon's wet cheek. 

He pulled away and released Theon; one hand fell then the other. Theon dropped to his knees and held himself numbly. Ramsay crouched down, nearly on top of him. Theon gasped and froze when cold metal ran smoothly down his cheek. 

"Now I want you to run and hide in the house. If you leave the house, you'll wish you hadn't. If you do a good job hiding, I'll pet you and it will be over for today. We'll just watch a nice show that you pick. If you fight me-"

"I won't! Please, I'll be good! I'll go hide!" Theon covered his head with this trembling arms.

"Good boy!" Ramsay smoothed Theon's hair into place with a loving touch. "I'll count to five Mississippi. Ready?" Theon dropped his arms and sat up. "Set?" Theon scrambled to his feet. "Go!" Theon tore up the stairs without even knowing how he reached them. 

Maron had told him once, _"If someone comes to take you away, or if you hear screaming, or gunshots, don't hide in places humans go. People will look behind doors, in closets, bathtubs, showers, and under beds. Those are all places humans go everyday. Hide in a cabinet, desk, cupboard, under a sink, or in a dryer; some place people never go."_ Maron said it all as though he was telling Theon how to make scrambled eggs. Theon didn't remember in the grips of terror, when the Northern men came to kill his brothers and take him away from his sister. He hid under his bed, and that was the first place they looked for him.

He remembered now though and quickly but quietly moved cleaning supplies around so he could squeeze himself under the kitchen sink. Ramsay was only at three Mississippi, so he ran to until he found a bathroom. He closed the shower curtain and shut the door. Then he tread with soft, light, footsteps back to the sink and crept inside. He shut the door very slowly so it didn't make a sound. 

Soon Ramsay yelled, "Five Mississippi! Ready or not, here I come!" His quick footsteps thundered up the stairs and run off somewhere towards the back of the house. Theon tried to control his breathing; slow, through the nose, silent. He heard the hooks sliding as the shower curtain was thrown open. Then he heard a door slam. Silence. Another door slam; closer. Nothing. A door slam on the other side of the house. It seemed to go on forever, but he just couldn't be sure. Every other minute, it seemed, a door slammed shut somewhere. 

"Theon... Theonnnn? Where are you? Can I hear you breathing?" A door slammed somewhere nearby and he jumped. A chair slid across the tile; he was in the dining room now. Theon tried to concentrate on being still and quiet. "Theoonnnnn? Come out, come out. Come out and play." He heard the faint whine of hinges and a whoosh when the pantry door was thrown open. He exhaled with short, fast breaths. "Do I hear you?" Ramsay's voice seemed farther away. "I think I heard you." Theon held his breath.

There was a tap-tap-tap on the dining table. "I have a knife with me. Want to feel it? Want me to open your skin, just a little bit, so you can see your blood?" Theon bit his tongue and tried to bury his head further in his knees. "Where are you? I hear you. You are being a good boy for me, aren't you?" Theon whined against his will as acid churned in his stomach. "In here?" Ramsay's voice was closer. "I heard you. Where's my puppy gone?"

Theon whined again. He felt like he swallowed lye. A cabinet door was opened close to him and he started to cry. Soft yellow light fell all over him until Ramsay blocked it. "Found you!" 

Theon was sobbing now, shaking so hard he could barely hold his legs. "Don't be sad, puppy. You did a good job hiding! Come here, come crawl to me." Ramsay backed up several steps and knelt down. Theon crawled out on his shivering limbs and stopped before Ramsay. "Shhh, don't be scared. I won't hurt you. See?" He stood and placed his knife in a drawer. He went to a cabinet and pulled out some chocolate bars. He came back to Theon, opening one after putting the rest in his pocket. He knelt. "Here's a treat for you." Theon looked up, his hands and knees against the cold tile. "Take a bite." Theon went to sit up. "Noooo," Ramsay corrected patiently. 

He dropped his head, "Please don't make me," he whispered to the floor. 

"Come on, this is easy. You're almost done. You're doing so well. Just take three good bites for me. It's only chocolate, it won't hurt you. I know you like it." Ramsay played his serpent voice so sweetly. "It's a treat."

"Thank you, please, I don't-"

"You don't want to hurt my feelings do you? Isn't this nicer than the knife? I can get the knife if you want. Want to run and hide again?" His sweet voice was more tense now. He was getting impatient.

"No, I'm sorry. Thank you." Theon finally lifted his red, leaking eyes and ate out of Ramsay's hand. Ramsay finished the rest and pulled Theon into his lap. He slipped his hand under Theon's ninja turtle t shirt and ran It over the contours of Theon's thin chest. Theon's body flushed with warmth and a aching pressure started building. He tried to shift his weight and cross his thighs. He felt like a ghost being pulled out of his gross body through the head. Ramsay carried him upstairs when he was done exploring his new toy.

When he was laid on Ramsays bed he felt like whatever danger had passed for the night. Ramsay was gentle and acted more like his friend than the monster from the basement. He dumped the chocolates on the bed and told Theon to take whatever the wanted. He brought pajamas and a cold glass of water, then gave Theon a choice of things to watch. Theon picked The Simpsons. As soon as he heard the theme song he felt better, though his stomach hurt. He felt small, cold, and lost. When Ramsay crawled into bed Theon inched closer to him. He wanted to be comforted more than he wanted to keep the torn shred of pride he had left. Ramsay pulled him to his chest, held him close, and kissed his forehead.

"Tomorrow we'll have another, harder game but, if you're good, we'll make a snowman and do some other nice things you'll like, ok" Theon nodded on his chest," he said softly. "I won't ever hate you. I'll love you and look for you until I die."


	19. I Want You More When You're Afraid of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon fell to sleep more quickly and more deeply than he had since he left the house where he hoped his sister still lived, but he woke up when Ramsay rolled out of bed.

It was the after midnight. Ramsay used his bathroom, turned out the light and opened his bedroom door. He peered into the hallway before leaving.

"Ramsay?" Theon whispered, sitting up.  
He turned his eyes on Theon and crept towards the bed. The glow of his television flashed on his profile. "What's wrong?" he whispered back.

"Where are you going? You aren't leaving are you?" Theon pulled the covers to his chin.

"No, of course not. I'm just forgot to lock the basement door. Do you need something?"

"No, thanks. Just... come back soon?" He asked. He was afraid to be alone in the huge, empty room in the scary house. It just didn't feel safe. Ramsay kissed his forehead and pushed him back down on the bed. 

"Go to sleep, stupid. I'll be back." _You're so perfect it hurts._

Theon tried to sleep but had a bad feeling. He hated nighttime already, especially this time, three in the morning. He tossed, turned, and huffed until he heard heavy steps coming up the stairs. Ramsay's footfall was light and quick or silent, as it had been when he left. Theon tried to hide under the covers. The door swung open and the heavy steps paused. They came closer and stopped at the bed. The covers were pulled back. Theon shrunk and gasped.

Roose looked down on him and tilted his head. He was fully dressed and smelled like cigarette smoke. He dropped the covers and opened Ramsay's bathroom door, then looked out the glass door leading to the balcony. He growled to himself and walked back towards the hallway. Theon acted before he could stop himself.

"DON'T SHOOT! DON'T SHOOT! DON'T TAKE ME! I'M JUST A BOY- I DON'T HAVE A GUN! DON'T KILL ME, DON'T KILL ME, I'M JUST A LITTLE KID!" He curled up tighter and rocked himself as he had in earnest many times before. 

Roose stopped and walked over to him. "Theon? Are you awake?"

Ramsay burst in the room and jumped on the bed. He clasped Theon to his chest and turned crazed eyes to his father. "What did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!"

Roose frowned at Ramsay and rolled his eyes. "He's having a nightmare, obviously. Do I look like I'm aiming a gun at his head? Where were _you_?"

Ramsay understood at once. "I was getting water. What were _you_ doing?" 

Roose smirked and said, "Making sure my bastard wasn't in the basement, but I was interrupted. Why don't you stay in your room with your skittish friend until morning?" 

After he left Theon almost spoke but Ramsay stopped him. "Good boy, Theon. You did a good job. Everything's fine. Go back to sleep now. I'll be right here with you." Theon fell asleep trying to explain to himself why he did that. He made a decision and practiced what he would say. 

When it was almost ten in the morning and Roose hadn't seen or heard Ramsay, he thought he'd better check on things. Ramsay never slept in, at least not at his father's house. When he came into Ramsay's room, he sighed. "What happened here?"

Ramsay looked up at him from where he was sitting at the foot of his bed. "What?"

"What did you do to him?" Roose came closer to check for a pulse, but saw the boys ribs rising and falling. His sandy hair, wound up in messy waves fell all over Ramsay's pillow. "Well, what are you doing then?"

"I don't know," Ramsay said frowning. Roose gave him a stern look of warning. "I'm just looking at him!" Ramsay whispered through gritted teeth.

"Why?" Roose almost recoiled at, what seemed to be, the truth.

"You wouldn't understand. It doesn't matter. Do you want me to wake him?" Ramsay looked away. He seemed sad, and Roose felt confused. 

"Yes. You should both come down for breakfast." Roose muttered and left them.

Ramsay slapped Theon's ass through the covers. Theon sat up, startled and felt around, muttering nonsense before really waking. "Get up, puppy. Time to take a shower."

After they ate, Ramsay lent Theon his gloves so they could make a snowman. It was sunny and calm outside, and there was about three feet of wet snow to play with. Theon couldn't believe how it had just appeared while they slept. After they made two snowmen Theon asked Ramsay if they could stay out a little longer. The wind was blowing thick, sticky snowflakes now. Ramsay was in good humor. "How about we race? There's an old playground down that hill if you follow the path which goes under the trees making an X ahead." Theon smiled and crouched to get ready. Ramsay laid a hand on his shoulder and bent towards his ear. "If you win the race, you get to say when we go inside. If I win, you have to be my slave." 

Theon stood up and turned to hide his flushed face. "I can't do that," he said firmly. He was warmed by a new kind of heat. Ramsay turned Theon's shoulders to force the boy to face him. He didn't like the rebellious expression he found. 

" _Why?_ " Ramsay smiled bitterly and held onto Theon's shoulders.

"It's beneath me. I'm not a slave. My family doesn't ... my father would kill me. We take what we want and don't work under anyone's thumb. I really want to be your friend, you're the best friend I've ever had. I like everything you're doing for me, really, but- I can't do these things. I just want to play... normal games with you, ok?" The darkness clouding Ramsay's face nearly made Theon lose his nerve. He thought about this last night and all morning though; it was now or never. 

Ramsay clenched his fists and jaw. Theon did too, trying to steel himself.

"You said you were _mine_ ," Ramsay growled in a low voice that didn't seem to belong to his frame. He stepped closer to Theon who stepped back. He put his hands on his hips, mostly so he wouldn't bend under the weight of Ramsay's building anger. 

"Yes, I'm your friend. I am! I want to be your best friend, always." 

Ramsay started to circle him. His head was lowered his eyes stared daggers at Theon without releasing him from their chilling grip. Theon tried to look fierce like tall, broad Rodrick would have, like a Greyjoy should. "I didn't ask if you were _my friend_ that's not what you told me." Ramsay was baring his teeth and circling tighter. "YOU SAID that you are _MINE_." Ramsay stabbed his chest with his index finger to indicate who Theon belonged to. 

Theon swallowed, breathing faster, and more shallow. "I thought that's what you meant! I don't want to play scary games! Common, don't be mad. I still-"

"You're trying to be brave. Trying to re-assert yourself. Did you know most animals have a built in trick to make them submit? You can turn sharks on their bellies, put a hood over and eagle, pull a wolf by it's scruff. Apes have a button. You just push it and the weak ones crumble into submission. It's probably because most apes have hierarchies, and the if the alpha male was always fighting or killing; they'd all be wiped out pretty quickly. Humans are just apes with less hair. Whether we want to believe or not; nature doesn't care. You're trying to act assertive but you're doing it all wrong. You're avoiding my gaze. You have to stand erect and take up more room with your movements. You're voice is cracking, your mouth is dry, your eyes are begging. You're fidgeting. You keep looking at your feet. You want to submit. It's your instinct, so I don't kill you."

Theon did fall apart then and sunk a little.

"Stand up straight, like me. Pull your shoulders back, spread your gait, raise your chin and look me in the eyes." Ramsay barked, circling so close now, he brushed against Theon's shoulders. "Uh, oh. You just didn't convince me. You're fighting not to drop to your knees and grovel. That's why you're shaking, right? You shouldn't be that cold."

"Stop it!" Theon yelled. "What are you doing? Why?! Just stop, please!" Theon's declaration ending in a whine despite his best efforts.

"I'm going to show you something you need to understand. Are you going to run, like I asked you to, or fight? Run or fight?" Ramsay walked into Theon until his back hit a pine tree.

Greyjoy men are great fighters, but Theon wasn't yet. He tore through the woods as pounding footsteps followed close by.


	20. My Love is Your Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon followed the trail leading to the playground through the ongoing wall of trees several yards before he noticed he no longer heard pounding steps behind him.

It felt good to run, even as his lungs ached from the cold air. As he passed under the crossed trees he fantasized about running through these woods until he game to a little house where a lonely pair of grandparents lived. Maybe they would take him in and the Boltons would just have to tell the Starks he had died. Then he could start a new life in a warm, safe, place. There had to be another life for him; he just couldn't see how to get there.

He saw the playground rising in bounces as he made his quick strides down the snow-covered hill. The snow was only getting deeper and harder to pull his legs out of. He pressed on but then lost his balance and fell in the yielding snow. He struggled to get back up and heard ferocious barking in the distance, quickly getting louder. His first thought was to escape up a tree but there were no sprawling sycamores to lend branch after strong branch to lift him, or smooth palm trees to hug with curving feet and wrapped arms as he pushed himself up to safety. He didn't see anyway to climb these Christmas trees that just yesterday seemed so friendly. He tried to make it to the slide. He didn't look back, he just focused on his goal and struggled on, but it wasn't enough.

The wolves were at his back before he had even made it to the playground's little clearing. He dropped to his hands and knees and covered his head, waiting for a terrible death to tear him apart with hot, wet mouths and sharp teeth. They surrounded him, growled, barked and snapped but didn't get any closer. He lifted his head very slowly and saw they weren't wolves but collared German Shepherds bearing their frothing fangs at him. When Ramsay walked into view he was on his hands and knees cowering in the thick snow. Ramsay walked the ten or so feet past him to the playground and called out, "I win."

The dogs seemed to be waiting for a command. They clawed at the snow, spun, snapped and barked in their excitement. Ramsay walked towards them wearing a growl for a mouth. Theon's spine pulled him straight trying to get just a little further away but the biggest dog snapped at his face as soon as he started so he fell back on his hands. He lowered his head but kept his eyes upon Ramsay.

"See?" Ramsay said in a low voice, approaching him. The dogs sat and went silent. "I didn't have to teach you how to submit so they wouldn't tear your throat out. You didn't need anyone to tell you to stop running, to be quiet, drop to your knees, to lower your head and avoid eye contact; its what you were built for. They'd've killed me," he said in a kind of baby talk as he scratched the big on behind her ear and rubbed her chest, "if they weren't mine. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you, good girl?" They all wagged their tails and shifted their weight, waiting to be allowed to come greet him and receive his affection. "I trained them all myself. Yes I did!" He pet the other two then stood up. "Good girls, stay, guard!" He reached for Theon's hand.

Theon looked up at him miserably. His tight chest was racked with deep aching. He lifted his trembling hand and his wrist was caught. Ramsay pulled him up and turned him to face the dogs who resumed baring their fangs and growling at him. Ramsay rested his chin on Theon's shoulder and wrapped an arm around his thin, long neck. "I'm sorry, Theon, did you want to leave?" he nudged Theon forward and the dogs jumped and snapped at him.

"No! No, whatever you want!"

"Who reached the playground first?" Ramsay demanded. His nose was cold on Theon's ear.

"You did."

"Oh yeah, I did. What does that mean again, Theon?"

The pain in his chest became an unbearable weight piercing through him. His head rolled back and he groaned under it. " _Please!_ Please don't make me-" he couldn't finish. He couldn't breathe. He gripped his chest and prayed his heart would release him from the mad world suffocating him. He sobbed in an agonized way that was almost scream and dropped to his knees. "I can- I- I can't ... pl- _please_." Ramsay pet his head and Theon covered his face. One dog snapped so close he could feel the moist heat of her breath at his elbow.

"Say it. They're only words. Best to just do it without overthinking things." Ramsay grabbed his wavy hair at the roots and pushed his head towards the dogs.

"Ok! Ok! I'll play! I'm your slave, Ramsay!" He wailed but didn't make a sound, his burning, heavy chest was so tight now. Whines and gasps came in stuttering spurts as he gripped his head.

Ramsay crouched down at his back and gripped his neck with his left hand. He kept petting Theon with his right. "I know it hurts. It's the death rattle of your old life and the birthing pains of your new one. It's not over, it will keep hurting, but it will get better and better. One day you'll be so happy, it will make you sick to think you ever lived without me."

"What?!" Panic and confusion helped to distract him from the agonizing humiliation driving a stake through his heart. "Why? Why? _Why?_ Why me? Why are you-" he froze. His mouth hung stupidly open, his eyebrows climbed his forehead pulling his eyes wide open.

Ramsay's hand had left Theon's head to run down his jacket and into the back of jeans. Theon didn't move, he hardly breathed. Ramsay rubbed his face against Theon's and spoke in a throaty, rumbling voice. "Why? Because I love you." He laughed and traced small circles. "Didn't you want to know what the button was? Or did you know already? Can you feel it? You're not complaining, or fighting now, are you? You're just going to take it." Theon's head rolled back until it rested on Ramsay's shoulder. He stared at the canopy of frosted branches above them. His knees and feet were wet and cold. Theon's body seized up and he groaned with a tight grimace, gripping Ramsay's leg. "How does _that_ feel? Do you like it?" Ramsay moaned softly against Theon's neck. "Shh, don't tense up. You're doing well. You have to relax. Stop fighting and take it. There you go. It's ok. Just accept it. Try for me. Good boy." Theon whined and stared far away. Catching glimpses of sky through the tree limb cage above.

"Theon," Ramsay cooed against his face. "You feel so good. One day, when you're older, I'm going to take all of you every way. We're almost done. Tell me; what are you?"

" _Your-slave-your-slave_!" he whispered frantically with a dry, hoarse throat.

 _"_ Good boy. Who am I?"

 _"Master-Master! Please_!"

"That's my good boy. Weren't you a bad boy trying to tell me 'no'?"

" _Yes-yes! Please! Sorry-sorry, Master, please! I'll-be-good!_ " Tears came to his eyes when Ramsay kissed his neck. His mouth was to hot on Theon's cold skin. He sucked and bit, his hand wound tight under Theon's jaw but it was all somehow apart from Theon.

"Good boy. Don't make me angry again, stupid pet. Next time, I'm going to hurt you and not in a fun way."

Theon cried out and squeezed his muscles, "Oh no!"

Ramsay laughed at him and stood, stretching. "You didn't shit yourself, idiot. You're fine. We should go inside, shower and change now. Get up, puppy. Come on, girls! Good girls, go to the kennel now. Go on! " Theon rose mechanically, still staring at the sky even when it was Ramsay's face in front of his. Ramsay gripped the back of his head and gave him a light, soft, wet kiss on the lips. He smiled like Theon did after he'd kissed a girl for the first time under a picnic table. It didn't make any sense. Ramsay should choose to either be a boy or a monster. Theon couldn't put the two together.

They went inside, cleaned up and changed into warm dry clothes. Ramsay babbled on happily about nonsense, as if nothing had happened.

Roose noticed the change in Theon at dinner. He was fascinated by the experiment his young bastard son was orchestrating. He might possess some skills that would make him useful after all. Roose watched as Ramsay lied smoothly and covered his tracks at every turn. Roose may not have even known what was happening if he didn't see himself so clearly in his son. He had the Greyjoy boy completely subdued in less than two days.

Interesting.

Ramsay played The Princess Bride for Theon and pet him. He did everything Ramsay asked without even thinking of hesitating. All Theon meekly asked was if he could please go to bed. Ramsay was very happy and feed him a chocolate as a reward. Theon felt somewhere _this_ was his new life. He couldn't shake that doomed feeling until Mr. Stark came to get him.


	21. The Air is Full of Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of humankind's most underrated strengths is the ability to get used to nearly anything.

Theon fell into a kind of ease with his life at the Bolton Estate. What they expected of him was clear, and consistent. At first he was desperate to have some chores and do something useful. Roose was amused by his attempts. He saw the clever child trying to work his way out of some debt he didn't owe. Ramsay would be frustrated everytime he tried to clean the bathroom or do the dishes. He pull him away by his shirt collar. "We have people to do that. _That's not what you're here for._ "

What Ramsay wanted him for wasn't that bad, he just had to make it through the hard parts. Ramsay seemed to push him a just a little more everyday. He'd talk him through the pain and humiliation, then pet and praise him when the game was over. He just had to struggle through and try to enjoy the rest of his time with Ramsay.

When Theon was scared he heard his father _Try to act like a man, for Christ's sake!_ or his brothers _Quit being a little bitch!_ even his sister _What's going to happen to you if you don't stop acting like a baby? Life is hard, you have to be harder or you'll die like a worm!_ but only Ramsay was with him, "It's ok. I'm right here with you. I won't let anything hurt you but me."

Ramsay talked to him all day, and asked him lots of questions. It always surprised Theon how much he remembered. He seemed to be working on Theon, studying him, seeing how he reacted to different things. He always seemed to want more. "Why do you want to alone?!"

"I just like taking walks by myself, I'm not going anywhere. Where could I go?"

"But WHY? Why don't you want to be with me?!"

"I'm sorry. I don't want to go. It was stupid."

"WHY? Why did you ask me? Why do you want to leave me? What are you trying to keep from me?"

"Nothing. Please, I'm sorry!"

Roose was watching everything, though the boys were too wrapt in their own drama to notice. He was very happy with the little Greyjoy's visit. Ramsay was very well behaved and Roose could concentrate on his work at his leisure. He tried pushing each boy a little just to see how they'd react.

"Ramsay, take out the trash."

"Why?! Don't you pay people to do that?"

"And what do you do to earn everything I've given you?"

"I'll do it! I want to help, please. I'm not your son," Theon said trying to smooth things over for his friend as he struggled to pull the trash from the pantry bin, "I just got dumped here on you and haven't done anything to help-"

"Go to my room, stupid." Ramsay shoved him aside, smiling. He took out the trash after that. Roose didn't even have to ask him.

Another cold morning Roose checked on the boys. They were laughing about some story his overly dramatic bastard was telling with exaggerated gestures and clown-like faces. Disgraceful. "Theon. Your sister is staying with one of your uncles and wants you to join her. If I go as your chaperone, the Starks couldn't possibly say 'no'. How would you like to spend Christmas with your family?"

The boy's eyes went dead and dropped to the floor. He didn't turn to look at Ramsay, but it's obvious that's where his thoughts lied. "No thank you, Sir. That's very nice of you and I appreciate it. I'd like to stay here, if that's alright with you."

Ramsay's face was so red, Roose had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. "Very well. Ramsay, I've decided your mother can't come for Christmas. It wouldn't be fair of you to ask her, all she wanted was a break from you. I've given her more than enough money to buy you presents though, so they'll be here for you. I want to talk to you alone after dinner."

When Ramsay came back from the talk that night, Theon was hiding under his covers. But Ramsay was very happy and simply kissed his forehead and put on Mystery Science Theatre for him.

The next day Theon slept in as usual and was surprised to wake up to a showered and fully dressed Ramsay pulling him out of bed. He was much bigger than Theon then, even though he was only a year and half older. He took Theon easily in his arms and carried him downstairs.

"What- what are you doing?" Theon forced down the urge to struggle. He knew that saying 'no' in anyway just wasn't an option.

"I have a surprise for you. You'll see later. First, you have to learn something. I know you can do it." Ramsay looked straight ahead smiling to himself.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Shh. You want some alone time, don't you?" They were approaching the basement. Theon didn't understand; that was more than a week ago!

"No, no, no! Please!" He couldn't help himself any longer and fought his way away from Ramsay's arms. Though Ramsay was strong, Theon was slight and quick. He spun, wiggled and contorted himself until he broke away. It was terrible, but he could only think of one place to run to.

When Theon burst into Mr. Bolton's room he looked up from putting his belt on, with an expression of mild concern. "PLEASE! Please don't let him take me to the basement! I can't! I can't! I'll be good! Please help me!"

Roose raised an eyebrow. "Alright, alright, sit down. What's happened?" They heard Ramsay calling for Theon across the house. "Ramsay, come here, and explain yourself," Roose called out in this thundering voice. "Calm down, boy. We'll straighten everything out."

Ramsay stormed into the room but seeing trembling Theon sitting on his father's desk chair, slowed down and looked a bit sheepish.

"Ramsay."

"What?" He shrugged his shoulders defensively.

"Didn't you tell your little pet not to come into my room?"

"No, sir, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Good, keep him under control." He smiled almost imperceptibly when he handed Ramsay his belt. "Stick to his ass and thighs so you don't break anything or leave any permanent marks. Remember, the condition you send him back in determines if the Starks will let him come again."

Shock carried Theon into the basement and through the beating, which was lucky. He passed out in the terrible cage, alone in the Bolton's dungeon. Ramsay gave him one bottle of clean water and one bottle which was empty. It was almost ten at night when Ramsay came to get him. Theon was faint and shaking with hunger but managed to promise to be good, not to run, not to go into Father's room, and no; he never wanted to be away from his Master again- yes, he promised. Ramsay fed him and comforted him. He rubbed lotion on Theon's bruises, taking his time with light, sensual, strokes.

That was the hardest part of the day for Theon. When he was hit he could get through with his soul intact. A twisted sense of endurance and bravery could be won in taking pain, but when he warmed in rolling, fizzing, waves under Ramsay's touch, his pride's charred ashes dissolved a even further. He couldn't hide when it made him excited, so he would try to picture drowning in the crushing expanse of the ocean's deep where no one would touch him, or hurt him, or despise him, or love him so horribly.

Ramsay was right though, it all became easier the more he stopped fighting. Christmas day was complete in its exquisite loveliness. When Ramsay pulled him downstairs, early in the morning, there were mounds of presents all over the living room. Theon was in shock when he found a whole pile of beautifully wrapped gifts just for him. Ramsay's mother had bought most of them and Ramsay got the rest the day he'd left Theon in the cage. None of that mattered or was remembered when Theon opened his presents. Each one was astonishing. There were new clothes, a compass, a kit to build a ship in a bottle, boxing gloves, his favorite movies, seasons of his favorite shows, his favorite games, and pirate movies.

"I think you'll like Hook. It's a lot goofier than Pirates of the Caribbean, but it's the kind of silly thing you like." Ramsay was giddy. He loved his own presents, especially his new dissection kit, and books on medieval torture, and one all about Vlad the Impaler, but he was most excited about how overwhelmed Theon was with his.

Theon opened his one present from the Starks and gasped. It was a stupid stuffed squid his sister had got him another lifetime ago. She told him to hug it when he had a nightmare, and let her sleep in peace. It was hard to see, to be holding in his hands here, in front of Ramsay. It's little felt face was worn down and a bead-eye hung a little too low. He felt Ramsay watching him as he stared it. He blinked to clear his eyes and said, "I don't really want this one," under his breath. Ramsay smiled.

After the presents were opened and cleaning staff had thrown all the wrapping paper away, they got ready to go watch a movie. While he was picking out which new clothes to wear, Ramsay heard Theon crying in the shower, and burst in his bathroom. "What happened?!"

Theon jumped and tried to cover himself. "Can't I tell you later?" He backed up to the stone wall of the shower. The translucent shower curtain hardly provided any privacy, and then Ramsay threw it aside. "God! Please, just wait! I'm sorry! I'm fine!"

"Well, why are you crying then?" Ramsay's face was screwed tight in a frown. He looked puzzled and unhappy.

Theon fell into sobbing, "I don't have anything for you!" He covered his face, forgetting he was naked.

Ramsay turned off the water and handed him a towel. "Come here." Ramsay turned and left the bathroom. In his room he was going through his new science kits. He came towards Theon with a little tray. "Sit on the bed." He took a little dropper and sucked tears off Theon's cheek, then squirted it into a tiny vial. Then he grabbed a ringlet of hair and cut it off Theon's head. He placed the hair in a clear baggy. "There. Thanks, sweet puppy. Those are my favorite presents." He smiled so warmly Theon kissed him, surprising them both.

The day before Theon left they were both miserable. Ramsay was distant and depressed. He didn't laugh or smile, not even a little. He just lied on the bed and didn't answer Theon's questions. Theon finally just lied down with him and whispered, "I'm sorry. _I don't want to go_."

No one said anything at dinner. It was tense and unhappy. Even Roose's blank face bore the slightest touch of sadness. Afterwards, Theon started to head back upstairs, but Ramsay rushed up behind him and carried him to the basement. Theon cried and struggled, "Why? Why?! It's not my fault! I don't want to go with them! It's not my fault! I want to stay with you! Please-" Ramsay used duct tape on his mouth and and then hands and left him in the cage until morning.

When Roose came to get him, he'd pissed himself with no way to even take his pants off over night. It was cold and sticky on his legs. It smelled awful, so did the duct tape under his nose. He was so ashamed.

Roose let him out. The duct tape hurt when Roose tore it off. He smirked down at Theon and told him to get cleaned up. All Theon's belongings were packed up for him and taken to Mr. Stark's car. He didn't see Ramsay until Mr. Stark rose from the living room couch and said they had better be going, giving his many thanks. Ramsay ran out and pulled Theon into the hallway before he could leave.

"I'm sorry," his eyes were red and his hands were shaking. "Promise you'll come back? Father was very happy with you, he's going to ask if he can adopt you. Please tell him you want to live with me. Just say 'yes' when he asks you. Promise me, and I'll promise you that I'll treat you better. It got better, didn't it? Didn't we have a good time?"

Theon looked away. Mr. Stark came into the hallway. Ramsay glared up at him with a silent snarl and pulled Theon into a tight hug. He whispered into Theon's ear, "Don't leave me, my precious pet. Promise me, you'll come back! Do it now! I love you!"

"I love you too, Ramsay. I promise that I do." He tried to convey that love, but he knew he was stabbing Ramsay in the heart. He pulled away and left with Mr. Stark making another promise, one was to himself. He would be a good fighter, he would make women love him, and he would never come back here, no matter how much he wanted to.


	22. So Messed Up, I Want You Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon stared at the living room ceiling not really remembering how he got there, but knowing that he could if he tried hard enough.

He hated tacky popcorn ceilings. Nothing to count, nowhere for his eyes to land, he saw twisted faces everywhere in the yellow light. He knew Ramsay had brought him here and left him sometime ago, in the same way he knew Providence was the capital of Rhode Island; it didn't feel first hand. He watched Ramsay walk away like a passenger watching their home getting smaller in the sideview mirror through their closed window.

It was very nice not to feel anything now. Maybe he was never real to begin with; he didn't seem to weigh down upon the couch like a real being should. He took his phone out of his pocket and tried calling Robb again. It rang three times and then went to voicemail. The second time it went straight to voicemail, so he tried calling Kyra. _Fuck you then, Robb._

"Theon! You CANNOT call me or talk to me anymore!" It didn't sound like her.

"Kyra, please, Mr. Stark is in the hospital dying. He might be dead now; I don't know because Robb won't answer his phone." He didn't sound like himself either.

After a gasp and pause she said sadly, "Oh, Theon, I'm so sorry. I know he was like a father to you-"

"Yeah, I-"

"- but I can't talk to you. I'm sorry. I just can't let you back into my life."

"Are... are you fucking serious? You can't be! I don't believe it!" He sat straight up, awake and alive again. 

"I'm sorry. My boyfriend really doesn't want me to talk to you and, you know what? He's right. I have to start over, _really_ start over. I've wrecked too many relationships because I ..." she started crying, "Oh, god. He just pulled in the driveway! Now he's going to ask me why I'm crying!"

"Ask you... FINE! Have a great fucking date with your possessive ass new fucking boyfriend! DON'T CALL ME WHEN HE'S FUCKING BEATING YOU!" he threw the phone across the room, "AND FUCK YOU ANYWAY!" he screamed at it, filling the house. He stood and paused, gripping his pounding head. He walked outside to have a smoke but found himself punching the wall before he could make it out the door. He grabbed his phone from the floor and shoved it in his pocket. _Fuck everyone! Just throw me away then!_ He swung the door open and screamed, "FUCK!" to anything that would listen until he ran out of breath. Then he rubbed his face and leaned against the house's brick side. 

"You want to?" Theon jumped and fell off the entrance landing into the bushes. Ramsay burst with laughter and held out his hand to help.

"I'M FINE! I'm fine! What the fuck are you doing? Where were you? Where'd you come from? I thought you left!" He struggled to stand up on his own, but Ramsay pulled him back on the landing before he could even find his feet. 

"I thought if I left you alone you might, I don't know, do something stupid like punch walls or jump into thorny bushes." The setting sun kindled a glowing fire in Ramsay's mocking eyes. Theon pulled out his cloves and felt around for his lighter. Ramsay stopped laughing and tilted his head. "Do you _want_ me to hurt you?"

"Maybe." Theon laughed. He found his lighter and brought the flame to his clove. "This isn't really a cigarette; it's a _cigar_." He faced the sunset, but his eyes snuck over to Ramsay and he smiled. He was able to take that first, best, hit before it was torn away and he was spun around. 

Ramsay held his shoulders tightly and rubbed his forehead against Theon's, pushing him back in the house. "Yeah? _Maybe_?" He kicked the door shut behind them and pushed Theon against the side of the living room couch.

"No, not here! In my room," Theon whispered, though there was no one else to hear or see, he felt he had to hide this terrible thing as much as he could, like he always had. "I'll show you." His voice was breathy and shaking. It couldn't be him, it couldn't be real, so it just wasn't. He was probably dreaming about his sickness, like he had before.

"How about on Robb's bed?" Ramsay smiled and started kissing his neck. 

Theon laughed despite himself. " _No!_ Wait, look, this doesn't mean-"

"Yes it does." Ramsay bit into his neck. Theon cried out and grabbed Ramsay's back tightly. Ramsay pushed him over the arm of the couch and started to pull off his pajama pants as Theon suddenly became afraid and fought to pull them back. "Do you have any idea _how fucking long_ I've waited to make you cum for me?"

"I can't!" Theon cried suddenly.

"I'll help you." Ramsay pulled harder in a quick movement and Theon grabbed his wrists, pulling himself to Ramsay's eye level. 

"No, really! Let me," he tried to push Ramsay back, Ramsay was interested enough to let him, " I'll take you to my room. I'll take care of you." Ramsay stopped yielding. "Or here, it's fine." He got on his knees and tried to unbutton Ramsay's jeans.

"That's sweet, but that's not what I want right now." Ramsay pulled him up by the roots of his hair and kissed him deeply. His hand wrapped around the back of Theon's neck, his other hand grabbed Theon's ass roughly. Theon gasped melted a little in his grip, but then he shivered and pushed himself back.

"That's not what _I_ want!"

"Yes it is."

"Just!" He ran at Ramsay and tried to knock him over. 

Ramsay took a few steps back and giggled. "What are you doing?"

"Just lay down!" he nearly screamed in frustration. Then his anger fell away and his eyes were pleading. He caressed Ramsay's face, "Please? Just let me take care of you." He his voice lowered and he came on sensuously and commanding as he ran his hand very slowly towards Ramsay's pants, he looked deeply into his eyes, "I know I can make you so happy. I'll make you cum as many times as you can stand-"

"WHAT?" Ramsay burst out laughing, harder than before. He snatched Theon's wrist and twisted it around behind his slender back. He guided Theon with the pain to bend over in front of him. He ran his free hand under Theon's hoodie feeling his smooth back and just took in how fucking perfect his reclaimed pet looked whimpering and shaking under him. He pulled his hand back out, raking his nails down the smooth skin as he did. Theon arched his back and groaned. Ramsay leaned down to look at Theon's face, happily amused with everything. "Are you trying to treat me like one of your little girls? Do I look like I have a quivering, untouched, clit for you to lick? I told you what I want. You want to make me so happy, love? Cum for me, like a good little boy."

"I can't!" 

"What did you say to me? I don't think that's what you meant to say," he purred sweetly and twisted the arm a little more, producing heavenly cries. He grabbed Theon's hip with his free hand and bit his lip.

"No, please! I mean really can't! I can't with other people! Please! I can't do it!" Theon was on the verge of crying. 

Ramsay released him and spun him around. "What the hell are you babbling about?"

He was blushing and bore a wretched contenance. "I can't get off with other people. It's a... control thing... I have to take care of you. Then I can get off later... alone."

Ramsay looked all over his face for until he _knew_ his pet wasn't lying. Ramsay was overcome by that feeling only this stupid, puppy-eyed boy could give him. So warm and full, it hurt a little. Ramsay swallowed a lump and blinked his eyes. "And you've only been with girls? No one's ever fucked you?"

"Yes! Of course I've only slept with women!"

"Holy shit, you're a virgin!"

"NO I'M NOT!" Theon was so furious, he slapped Ramsay's face before he could stop himself. 

He hardly seemed to notice. "You really never orgasmed for anyone? You waited for me?"

"No! Nevermind! Forget everything! Just leave! Get OFF of me!" He was yelling as cold and bravely as he could, but his red, misty eyes him wouldn't act the part.

"I can't believe it,... you really aren't lying..." A tear fell on Ramsay's cheek. He touched it and looked at where it had wet his finger as though he was looking at his own newborn child. "Huh, look at what you did to me..." he whispered to himself.

Theon was overwhelmed. He had hoped to seduce Ramsay, to feel someone want, and like him, to feel like he wasn't all alone, and to gain some kind of power over the monster threatening to swallow him. 

Now he was lost in thoughts and feelings he couldn't tolerate an instant longer. So he broke and away and ran as quickly as he could.


	23. Rats in Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Theonnnn," the monster called down the long, dark hallway, "why did you go up the stairs and not out the door if you didn't want to play with me?"

He was trying to be gentle. He could no longer be patient. Not when he'd already waited this long and come so close. The boy was a fast slippery thing, flying away with wide eyes, taking sharp turns around corners like a deer weaving through trees. It gave Ramsay a powerful rush and focus. He wanted to attack, to make naughty Theon take his cum and give up blood. But Ramsay would be gentle, and play his favorite games until Theon burst and was swept away in the love he couldn't deny any longer.

Ramsay strolled around the upstairs left wing, humming to himself. He followed the mangled rugs, tossed about by those sharp turns. Everyone must have left the house in a hurry because all the doors were open except the one he heard slam, at the very end of the hall. He smiled broadly and bit his lip. _How stupid do you think I am?_ He started towards the closed door, stopped and looked at his phone with a confused frown. He walked back a few paces, drumming his thumb on the screen. 

Up Jumped the Devil played in the bathroom next to him for a second and went silent. "I fucking knew you screened my calls, you little asshole." He laughed, and threw open the bathroom door. He turned on the light, but no puppy. "Oh, I thought you were watching me so you knew when to run. I put on a little show and everything." He opened the little closet closest to the door first and heard a whine beside him. "Oh, sweetheart, under the sink? Just for me? That's so sentimental." 

Theon started crying before he even opened the door. "How did you get yourself in there? Don't! Don't jump, stupid, you're going to tear yourself apart." Theon started thrashing and pleading so Ramsay grabbed his neck with one hand and applied pressure one each side, right under the jaw where he felt the pulse. "Shhh, come here. It's ok." He pulled the head crowned with sandy waves down and away from the metal pipes. Theon's muscles became soft and loose, and he stopped struggling. Ramsay slithered and arm across his smooth chest and pulled him out slowly into his lap. He studied his wide ocean eyes, and pet his face lovingly. "It's alright. You don't have to run and cry. It won't be like last time, I promise. I'll take my time with you. I don't want to hurt you, I want you to love it."

Theon just kept shaking his head and begging with his teary eyes. "I can't. Please! I'd rather it be like last time, I mean... the sex. Just take what you want and leave me... _intact_. I don't" he curled up, writhing in reality which had caught him at last, "I- I don't want to think about you anymore. I tried so hard to fix it! I did everything to make you go away! To get out of ME! OUT OF HEAD! OUT OF MY SKIN!" Theon held up a hand gnarled in his agony and tried to tear flesh from his forearm with the other but hit hands were caught. " _Ugh-_ " He felt impaled at once. His chest tight, aching, a heavy weight stabbing through to his spine. 

Ramsay cradled him and stroked his wet cheek with thumb. "I know. I tried to forget you too. Does that make you feel better? Nothing worked. I think it just made it worse, really. We don't have fight anymore, or try to forget. Let me show you." Ramsay started to get up and Theon crawled off, scrambling away.

"No! Just let me do it!" Ramsay grabbed his ankle and pulled him by it into the hallway. Theon grabbed the door frame before it slipped by. "Stop! Please! Just let me be the one in control! If you love me-"

Ramsay pulled fast and hard enough to knock him loose. His head bounced on rug. " _If_ I love you? That's a bit manipulative." Theon laughed bitterly then started twisting to pull his ankle out of painful grip. Ramsay dragged Theon into his room. "Holy shit. This is even smaller than I remember. It's like a walk in closet. Is that why you like it? _Memories_?"

"No! I don't remember that!" Theon sat up on his elbows.

"Really? Remember what? Idiot. _Why_ " Ramsay stood over Theon and leaned over to slam the door, "do you keep _lying to me_?"

"I don't... I need... I have to have _something_!" Ramsay dropped his ankle and he sprang up on his knees. Rolling his big eyes up and wetting his lips he pouted, "I'm sorry," and let his mouth hang slightly open as he unbuttoned Ramsay's jeans and slid them down. He keep his eyes up on Ramsay's as he ran his tongue over the cotton straining to hold back his hard, hot, pulsing bulge.

"You fucking slut," Ramsay grabbed him by the roots of his hair and pulled him on the bed, climbing on top of him. He was smiling and snarling in turns. "You're mine now. Only mine. No more little girls, no more fucking around, not ever," Ramsay repeated it like a frenzied chant. "You're mine, you're _my_ fucking slut, _mine only_." He looked around the little room frantically. "This would be so much easier at home." He looked back down at Theon and saw his pale chest was flushed. Ramsay smiled feeling more sated, and tore off his hoodie, then grabbed a cloth belt from a robe on the floor. Theon whined and struggled, but he was already melting. "I know," Ramsay rumbled softly, "you don't want to want it. It's ok. You don't have a choice. It's not your fault. I'm making you, see?" He tied the thin, white wrists to the futon's metal bars.

Theon bucked his hips and turned his head. His eyes rolled back. Ramsay started behind his ear, kissing, sucking, biting a little. He moved down to the crook of his slender neck, and Theon began twisting and moaning. "Stay!" Ramsay barked. "I'll be right back. If you move an inch I'm going spank that ass raw before I fuck it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes." Theon murmured. He arched his back and his head rolled, swimming.

Ramsay's suddenly glowed with a playful twinkling light. " _Yes, what_?" He rose and pulled off Theon's pajamas and boxers. Then he pulled Theon's legs up by the knees. He knelt on the futon and lifted Theon's ass onto his lap, then pushed his shaking knees far apart. "Huh? Huh? Huh?"

"Yes, Sir." It hurt the wound deep in his chest to say, but it also pushed Theon further into a swirling, hazy, euphoria.

"Not good enough." Ramsay flashed his eyes and let his jaw drop a little while he grinned. His expression seemed illuminated from below somehow.

Theon groaned and twisted his torso away. "Yes,... _I can't_ "

"You will!" Ramsay jumped up, "Stay!" Theon heard his quick steps pounding down the stairs. Once it was silent and empty in his room, he could almost imagine it was all a game he'd been playing with himself. He felt like he was being pulled into a new kind of high he never felt before, but it was wearing off. He seemed to snap back to his senses, and struggled to free himself. 

It was already too late, the monster was thundering up the stairs. He came over the threshold with a full dufflebag on his shoulder. "Ok, this is going to be a lot of fun!"


	24. He'll Rekindle All the Dreams it Took You a Lifetime to Destroy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Alright!" Ramsay threw the dufflebag on the floor beside Theon. "So, this is the agenda; we have to have a nice long talk, but I can't wait one fucking instant longer to fuck you."

He knelt beside Theon and opened the bag with a wide, hungry grin. "So you're going to make me very happy, afterall I've been beyond patient, don't you think? I'm going to fucking explode if I don't cum inside you- so we'll take care of that, then we'll talk, then we'll fuck again. I really want to fuck you on that smug ginger's bed," he chattered on, almost to himself as his searched through his bag, but every few seconds his icy eyes would pierce through Theon again, "and then," he leaned in close and his face swelled with painful poignancy, he licked his lips and swallowed, " _I'm taking you home._ "

"Ramsay, that's not possible," Theon sad with a sadness he didn't expect.

"Fine, if you want to be difficult I can fuck you while we have our long overdue talk." He frowned bitterly, then looked up as if remembering something, "No, that's even better, actually..."

"Ramsay, you're not thinking things through, I'm not trying to fight you, really."

"Yeah, right." _Where is that fucking gag?!_

"What's going to happen when the Starks come back to the house? What's going to happen when your father sees me?" Theon said sweetly, trying to talk Ramsay down from the headrush carrying him away.

"He wants you to come back! It was Eddard fucking Stark that kept you from me, and he's dead now. Problem solved!"

He pulled out a bottle and laid it next to Theon's hip.

"He's dead?" Theon whispered.

"Oh yeah, I found out while you were yelling on the phone. My condolences on the loss of your potential murderer."

Theon felt he should defend Mr. Stark, but didn't know what to say. He had to focus on bringing Ramsay back to reality. "What about Robb?" Theon insisted, in his most soothing tone.

"WHAT _ABOUT_ ROBB?!" Ramsay jumped up with handcuffs clenched in his fist. "I'LL JUST-" but he stopped himself from saying too much. Theon tried to calmly and softly explain that Ramsay didn't understand who the Starks were, or how they worked, "I know, you little idiot. I know much more than you do." He crossed his arms over his head and leaned back. "It's all going to fall apart under him. He's too young and stupid, then my family will be the most powerful in the North, so it's a good time to jump ship." He smiled to himself, dreams in his eyes.

"Does Mr. Bolton want you wait until then?"

That set Ramsay's teeth on edge. He curled his nose and snarled, " _You're distracting me_." He pulled out the gag at last, but saw the teeth marks and blood and remembered the disgusting piece of shit he last shoved it in. " **EVERYTHING'S IN MY FUCKING WAY!** " He threw it and gripped his head, trying to fight off images growing more vivid and feeling more inevitable in his gorey, racing, thoughts.

" _Ramsay._ " Theon slid up chest and wrapped his arms around his waist. His head rested under Ramsay's chin. "I'm right here."

Ramsay eyes blinked and darted around rapidly. He relaxed, his breathing slowed. He let his cheek fall against the waves of soft hair. He held Theon's long neck with one hand, the handcuffs in the other. He wrapped an arm around Theon's shoulders. "How did you sneak out?" Ramsay smiled, but the smile fell away. " _I can't wait anymore._ "

"Just be with me now. You'll think more clearly tomorrow."

Ramsay's eyes rolled to the side, swimming. He pulled Theon closer and held him tightly.

"Well,... do I... shouldn't I, like, bend over something?" Theon asked looking up at him.

Ramsay laughed, "Shut up, stupid." Theon looked confused, which made Ramsay laugh harder. "What? You want that spanking afterall? You're not ready for that position. Lay down for me. No, on your back." Ramsay took off his clothes and climbed on top of Theon. "Don't try wiggling out of these, you'll break your thumb. They're more for work than _romance_ " he made an exaggerated grin at the last word, Theon tried not to smile, "but it's all I have on such short notice." He seemed almost giddy, again, like he was picking up speed.

"Hey," Theon said as meekly as he could, but he had to say it, "this is just for tonight, ok? I don't want to give you the wrong idea..."

"Sure. I understand. I know you need a lot of time to adjust and deal with things." Ramsay said with an easy smile. He licked Theon's smooth chest and watched it arch and flush splotchy pink. He traced his finger from Theon's adam's apple all the way down in between his nipples, "You need your freedom," Theon's head rolled, his shoulders twisted, "I respect that." Down, slowly, one finger, one line, between his ribs, down his stomach. "Sex is kind of... a meaningless thing, isn't it?"

"Uh-no, I-" Theon couldn't think clearly enough to try to lie.

Down, slower still, bumping in and past his navel. "I won't get the wrong idea." Down, into thick hair.

"Oh!" Theon's hips rolled. Ramsay's grip was warm and tight, he pulsed against it. He gasped and thrust a little, trying to stay still, to think of anything else. He didn't hear the bottle cap pop open he only felt the thumb running up the base towards the head. Then the warmth and pressure was gone. A whine escaped Theon. He tried to sit up, but couldn't. Ramsay lifted his ass with one arm and put it on a pillow.

"No, this isn't like, a date. Of course not. I'm not like those little girls whose hearts you break, am I?" the razor edge in his voice was apparent now. He smiled, his sleepy-eyed, satisfied smile down at shaking, wide-eyed, naughty, Theon who could only manage to whine back and shake his head. "No? No. I don't think so either." He grabbed Theon's ankles and curled his legs so his knees rested on his chest. He was hot, hard, and well-lubricated, thrusting slowly over the button that made Theon submit. Theon arched his back and twisted on his shoulders and elbows, trying to fight it. His whines turned more and more into moaning. He rubbed his face against his bound arm. Ramsay smiled and his eyes lit with that familiar gleam. He pulled back and lowered Theon's ass back on the pillow.

Theon yelled out and his eyes bulged. "OH FUCK! It hurts! It hurts! I have to go, I have to-" he looked in panic at the door, "I'm gonna-"

"No, you're not. It just feels that way because you aren't used to it. You really are a sweet little virgin. You're hyperventilating, you need to stop fighting and let it happen. The more you give in, the better it will feel. Oh, fuck, it feels amazing for me."

"It hurts! It's too much! Take it out, please!"

"What?"

"PLEASE, MASTER!"

"Oh. That was easy. I meant, what's hurting you?" Theon growled and pulled at the cuffs. Ramsay giggled, "You're only hurting yourself, you little idiot." Ramsay moved just half an inch

"You! Your cock! Your dick inside me!" he exploded desperately. "Please don't move!"

"Why?" Ramsay asked innocently, malice shining in his eyes.

"It hurts! Please! I'll be good! I'll do anything!"

"Well, isn't that lovely? Why does it hurt, sweet puppy?" He smiled and pushed in just a little more.

"BECAUSE YOU'RE COCK IS TOO BIG! FUCK! Please stop, please!" Theon's voice cracked as he yelled. He was overcome by dizziness.

"Ok, ok, I'll stop. I'll wait until you're ready. You have to relax. Release your muscles' grip then, a little at a time, it will feel better and better. When I hit the right spot, you'll think you went blind." He let a word play on his tongue, but thought it was still too soon. He lowered his voice. "Theon, is this _really_ just for tonight?"

"No, no, no! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he cried.

"Don't cry, I'm not mad. You're doing well, keep trying. I won't move until you're ready, ok? But tell me, who do you belong to?"

"You! I belong to you." He was relaxing a little now, and it did hurt less. Ramsay rubbed his shaking leg.

"Good boy," he rumbled. "For how long? Just for tonight?"

"No, Master, forever." It suddenly stopped hurting. Theon's muscles melted.

"There's my good boy. Now, tell me, why do you keep lying to me?" He held one trembling knee to support it, and stroked Theon's thigh gently with his other hand.

Theon whined. "I'm sorry! I wanted to keep you away! I'm scared. I don't want you to hurt me, I don't want you to swallow me. I'm sorry, I'm so scared, I do remember everything... some of it's just in pictures instead of a movie. _I don't want you to hurt me like last_ -" he broke off crying.

Ramsay swallowed and curled his nose, looking away. He bit his lip and looked down, then turned his head the other way. "Well, that was just that once. You made me _very angry_."

"Are you still mad at me?" Theon looked up, begging with his hurt, puppy eyes.

"Yeah," Ramsay smiled sadly. "I mean, for what?- but, yeah." He chewed the inside of his cheek and tilted his head. "For not coming home to me? I'm getting over it. You have the rest of our lives to make it up to me. I'm getting much better, with my anger. You help me with that, I need you for lots of things. I've been in therapy too."

"How did you know that-"

"Later, later, "Ramsay started thrusting very slowly, just a tiny bit deeper each time, "do you feel better?" Ramsay must have hit the spot, or maybe Theon had just lost his mind at last, but it felt impossibly good. Theon licked his lips his eyebrows peaked like he was begging with his eyes closed. "You're being such a nice puppy for me. Be my good little pet; tell me I own you forever and come for me. Then I'll forgive everything." The words rolled out like silk over shivering waves of pleasure.

"Yes, Master, please forgive me." Theon was swept away in that debilitating high. It was like the impaling feeling, but light, ecstatic, overwhelmingly wonderful. He gave in completely.

"You think you're ready for more?" Ramsay asked sweetly, as his lover now.

" _Please,_ " Theon gasped.

"Ok. You can tell me to slow down if it hurts. I won't be mad; I want you to like it. Do you understand? We can talk more when you wake up."

 _Wake up?_ It didn't matter, nothing did but this. "Yes, Master, thank you. Please, don't stop."

Ramsay was afraid he'd lose it right there. Every time his puppy moaned _Master_ underneath him while he thrusted slowly into him, Ramsay felt he'd die from joy. He sped up more and more, watching his pet lose all control underneath him. He went deeper, then harder, then harder still, while until Theon couldn't stop himself from crying out. "Good boy. Do it now; tell me I own you forever and cum hard for me," Ramsay commanded, watching the boy writhe, lost in new, raging pleasures.

"Yes! Yes," he moaned, "you own me, Ramsay, forever. I'm yours only, always, I swear- _fuck_!" His own hot seed landed on his chest as if to prove to him that it happened. He couldn't believe it; he had really thought he could only get off alone. He didn't want to think about what it meant, he was happy and so tired; it couldn't matter. Ramsay pulled out quickly. He felt Ramsay's cum on his ass.

Ramsay lowered himself closer to Theon's face. "Don't wash that pillow case. I'll get you a new one. I want you to keep that as it is until I bring you home to keep."

"Ok..." he was already drifting off. Ramsay got up and put his boxers on. Theon sat up and got dizzy all over again, "You're not leaving, are you?!" _Oh god, this is why women say that. Did I make them feel this fucking needy and hurt when I left?_

But Ramsay pushed him down smiling, and kissed his forehead. "I'm getting water, idiot. You can't get rid of me," he called from hallway, "give up and accept it already, sugartits!"

Theon crinkled his nose and furrowed his brow, trying not to laugh, "Sugartits? What the fuck?" he slurred so sleepy and relaxed, his last thought before falling asleep was, "He forgives me, he's happy again..."


	25. Let Love In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon woke up very slowly, feeling so relaxed and free of pain, he entertained the idea, for a moment, that he was a ghost who'd finally left his wretched body to rot, but he wasn't a ghost and he wasn't alone.

He saw Ramsay sitting at the foot of his futon typing on his laptop. 

"Ramsay? What time is it?" he tried to sit up, but his arms were still cuffed above his head. Ramsay just smiled and kept doing whatever he was doing on Theon's computer. Theon strained trying to hold his head up without his arms to support him. "Can I have some water?" Ramsay smirked and glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "Please?" Ramsay arched his other eyebrow and grinned. Theon pursed his lips, trying not laugh. "Please, ... Master?"

Ramsay put the laptop on the floor and leaned over Theon. He traced his thumb over Theon's bottom lip and slid his index finger under Theon's chin. Prying his mouth open, Ramsay ran his thumb over Theon's bottom teeth. Theon bit him, lightly. "I fucking love when you do that," Ramsay rumbled in a low, throaty voice.

"Bite you?"

Ramsay slapped Theon's face playfully. "Idiot." He looked around the room, a smile dancing on the corners of his mouth. "When you can't help smiling and laughing for me." He turned away and seemed to think about something. 

"Did I do something wrong?" 

Ramsay turned to him with a sharp glare, but softened seeing he wasn't playing any kind of game; his stupid puppy eyes were just searching anxiously through his messy hair for an answer. Ramsay's mouth curled up happily, but his eyes were dark. "How did you fake orgasms? How does a man do that?"

Theon sighed and muttered, "With condoms."

"Ohhh, that's why you're clean..." Then a playfulness washed over his face without explanation. "Yeah, I'll get you water." He poked Theon hard in the center of his chest, smiling. " _Stay_."

Theon shook his wrists and the chains from the metal cuffs jingled and jangled. "Real fucking funny."

Ramsay leaned back in the doorway a little before leaving, "Yeah, I know."

 _Don't leave me here to think about what I've fucking done._ He realized when Ramsay did leave the house he'd still be here, and he'd have to figure out a way to live with all this. His disloyal body still felt really good and his mind had practiced putting off tomorrows his entire life. "Fuck it," he muttered to himself.

When Ramsay strode back through the door, Theon was ashamed to feel relieved. He had a cold bottle of water in hand. His eyes ran all over Theon before he knelt down beside him. "Here," he said softly, opening the bottle. His free hand ran under the back of Theon's head and lifted him gently.

Theon whimpered and turned away slightly, pulling against cuffs. "Please, can I-"

"No." Ramsay brought the cold mouth of the bottle to his lips. Theon gritted his teeth. His nostrils flared and his eyes fell as he argued with himself. "Don't you think it's kind of funny how you fight my kindness and ask for my anger?"

Theon rolled his eyes. Another long, tortuous talk is the last thing he wanted. "I'm not fighting." He drank and tried to keep from grimacing.

"Hmm." Ramsay took the bottle away when he finished. " _Look at me._ Don't look away. I love you. I know you love me. I know you want me. I'm going to take care of you. You need me to- there it is!" Ramsay eyes flashed like he just won another game. "There's that angry little face you try to hide! You made that face when I first petted you, and when I wouldn't take your money for the car. You make that little angry face in flashes, and I could never figure out exactly why. So... that's it? You don't want to need me? You hate it? Yeah?"

"I don't want to play games."

Ramsay laughed and climbed on Theon, sitting on his hips. "Out of all those questions, you answered one I didn't ask, and don't give a flying fuck about?"

"I'm sorry. I'm just tired." His unhappy face flushed pink. "Can I go to sleep now?" It was one request he had always been allowed to make, and was usually granted, but that was a long time ago.

"Ok," Ramsay reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar, "If you eat a bedtime snack for me." He leaned in closely to examine Theon crumbling, with his cold-burning eyes. "I don't understand, it's just chocolate. Why does it break you to eat it from my hand?" There was no hurt or compassion in the question; just fascination. Another game.

"I hate it for the same reason you want to do it! Because that's what you always did! Because you made me feel... _small_ and dependent on you. Well, I can't be! I can't survive my life, alone and hated like I always am, unless everyone's, like, ... away from me! THESE THINGS HURT MY WRISTS!"

"Well, stop fighting, idiot. They won't dig into your skin if you don't flop around like a fish in a net. I feel like you just aren't paying attention." Theon protested when Ramsay took off his jeans and boxers, then begged when he popped the lid of the bottle open. "I know, it's not fair. Poor baby, now you need me for something else." He pushed gently against the surrender button without pushing through as Theon squirmed. "Say it. Tell me how much you need me."

"Anything else! Please!" 

"Anything else?" Ramsay stopped and seemed to think about it. "Would you really rather say _anything_ else? That you're my whore? That I'm your god? That you always think about me when you jerk yourself off all alone? That you belong to me and you've been very bad while you've been away from me?" A wide, malicious grin spread across his face and he grabbed Theon's hips, pushing inside. Theon cried out and twisted, so pretty, below him. 

"Yes! All of it! Everything! I'll say anything else! What do you want?" Theon's eyes were crazy as they searched Ramsay's face for mercy. He was in a feverish state between rapid panting and screaming. "It's all true! Please!"

Ramsay bit down on his lip and his head swirled loosely to the side. "Good boy. Ok, no more fucking around with little girls?"

"No, Master, no more fucking around." He began to give up and relax, it seemed, from a kind of muscle memory. 

"When your little girls come up to you and you get these ideas in your head about making them happy, you remember this moment. You remember me fucking you. You remember that I own you, that I'm always watching you, that I'll know and when I find out someone else played with my favorite toy, I'll break your little dolls; just to make things fair. Tell me you understand."

"I can't try to make girls happy. You poisoned me, I'll only hurt them. I'll be good, I won't hurt them. I'm yours, only, always. You own me, I can't give what's yours to someone else."

"Good boy, very good. Now, tell me you need me." Ramsay pushed in deeper and he hurt his wrists trying to sit up, without thinking. "I need you!" He fell back crying. Then tore up again, "Fuck you!"

"Fuck me? I think I'm really the one fucking you, my sweet," Theon fell back, scared of what he said, and Ramsay's wrath. But Ramsay looked down on him with more love than Mother Mary could have shown the infant Christ. Too much to understand, far too much to fight, Theon let himself melt again and fizzing euphoric bubbles swept over his troubled mind. 

"my creature, my precious," He moved slowly, very slowly/ Theon fell further away.

"my bitch, my love," Deeper now, slowly still/ fading willingly.

"my slut, my only," harder and harder/ dismantled, elated.

"my plaything, my friend," faster, building/ lost, enraptured.

"my idiot, my heart," watching, waiting/ succumbing, peaking.

"my..." he held himself up with one hand, and held the little lost face in the other/ Theon started to climax " _Reek._ "

Theon seemed to scream silently as he came. Ramsay came inside him, just seeing it, then collapsed beside him.


	26. A Vicious Appetite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Just do it. It will be easy; one drop, tell yourself you didn't do it, then walk away. Forget it happened._

_What's one drop? One second of your life? You'll be free, it will fix all our problems._ Ramsay whispered into his ear in the Stark's kitchen. It was a terrible day. Theon was torn and tempted. _Do it for me. I miss you._

_Please don't make me. He's my father._

_What has he ever done but hated you? Has he ever loved you like I do? Have the Starks? They don't want you, he doesn't want to live the way he drinks smokes and fucks anything with a hole, I want you to come back home with me. Don't you want to make everyone happy?_

_You don't understand... he doesn't hate me. He's just sick. I can't kill someone so pathetic, I can't-_

_Do this for me. Don't let me down again._

***

He'd been shaking with wide-mouthed, silent cries in the dark, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars he taped in wavy patterns on the ceiling. He didn't know how long he'd been lost to time and life like this. Ramsay's slept on his side next to him. He was so warm and broad. When his shoulders rose, his chest expanded and pressed against Reek's side; against his scar, the one The Monster made.

He finally came into his body enough to turn his head. Ramsay didn't look scary, like he should. His dark, long lashes bristled in waves like caterpillars when his round eyes rolled around, dreaming. His mouth hung open slightly. His hair looked so soft, folding on the contours of his arm. 

_How does this boy become The Monster? He only has to open his eyes._ He snapped back to look at the ceiling, but adrenaline had started on it's irrevocable course. _Theon, Theon Greyjoy, Theon, Theon Greyjoy... liar, fuck up, trapped, hated, lonely, desperate, fucking Theon. Theon, Theon Greyjoy, Theon-_

**_WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!_ **

"Let me go. Let me go." He twisted and pulled his wrists against cold metal. "Now!"

"What? I got it. No one saw me. It's on the table, leave me alone." Ramsay turned over and his shoulder bumped the wall. He leap up with his hands outstretched, ready to attack.

"Let me go! Let me out! LET ME OUT!" He was thrashing as hard as he could. The pain made it feel like he was really fighting.

"Stop that!" Ramsay crashed down on him, pinning his wrists. "Can you stop? If you can stop and stay still, I'll get the key and let you go, alright?" Theon nodded. His chest was heaving and his eyes were racing. Ramsay got up and put his boxers back on. "Do you know I couldn't find any decent mouthwash in this whole god damned place?"

"Mouthwash?" Theon turned and saw him digging in the bag.

"Yeah. Fucking savages. So, this is going to taste awful, but," he laughed, "you did swear at me."

"What?" 

Ramsay flashed a predatory smile and sprang. He grabbed Theon's hair at the root to hold his head still and started to shove the gag in his mouth. "Get it?" Ramsay giggled. "Does it taste like soap? Because then you'll get it." Theon twisted his head away, the pain in his scalp made his eyes water. He clenched his jaw tight. Ramsay pinched his nose closed with the index finger and thumb from the hand holding the gag. "Open up, sweetie. Time to take your medicine." When Theon's mouth finally opened, gasping for air the bit was shoved in. Ramsay released his nose, then pulled his head up by his hair, tightened and closed the strap at the back before Theon could pull away. Theon whined and let his head fall back when it was released.

"That's a little better. You feel more relaxed now?" He stroked his Reek's face and noticed the hair ripped out in their struggle sticking to his hand. Reek's ocean eyes swam passively. He took deep, slow breaths now. Blood trickled down his wrists. "Oh, fucking great. Just look what you did! Bad! I told you not thrash around like a wild animal! Now I have to deal with this bullshit! We should be leaving but nooo, you just had to-" He stood and complained his way around the house looking for some kind of first aid kit. He found one in the master bathroom and stomped back to Reek. He took the key from his pocket and undid one hand. His eyes flashed a sharp warning. Reek whimpered and shrunk back.

He took the bloody thin wrist and cleaned it with rubbing alcohol. "I don't think this is the best thing to use, but the cuts aren't every deep," he muttered to himself. He felt better when Reek twitched in pain. "If you cut yourself again, I'll clean it with salt." Reek whined and flinched. The blood kept bubbling up through broken skin, beautiful crimson, leaving screaming red trails on porcelain skin. He took the wrist lovingly and licked up to the palm with a wide, hot tongue. Reek moaned softly and dissolved a little more. Ramsay flashed him a blood-red smile and kissed his forehead. He pressed sterile gauze to the wound and wrapped it. 

It made his black heart expand. Each time he cut Reek before, this has always been his favorite part; even the last time. He thought it must be Reek's favorite part too. He lies submissively, sighing, and let's Ramsay move him about like a doll. His eyes wander up, so shy and grateful. Ramsay kissed the bandage better. Reek exhaled audibly, his eyebrows pulled up in middle, asking _please_.

Ramsay clicked the cuff back on, over the bandages. "It's a little looser now. When we get home I'll give you nice, wide, leather ones with a little fur on the inside. Won't that be nice?" Reek whimpered and his head sank further back. Ramsay freed, cleaned, and bandaged the other wrist, then clicked it back in place when Theon's phone rang.

Ramsay frowned down at Reek. "Just who the fuck is calling you at this hour?" He snatched the phone from Theon's pajama pants, lying where he threw them. "Oh, of course it is." He rolled his eyes at shrugged at his Reek, like he was apologizing for the call he had to take. 

"Yes, hello, Bobby, what is it?" He covered his mouth and started to pace the room. "Of course I am! Poor kid, someone had to tell him! He thought something had happened to you, kept saying it was his fault. He was drunk when I called him. I couldn't believe he was just left here alone, not knowing." His face lit with a razor smile. "Uh, huh, uh-huh. No, no, he's sleeping. No, I can't do that. I think it's best that I take him for now. Look, I didn't want to tell you this over the phone, I know something about what you're going through, but, he was trying to fucking kill himself when I got here. Yeah, I'm serious. He tried to slash his wrists open. He shouldn't be left alone. Look, between you and I, I know perfectly well that you and your mother don't want him around right now. This is really a time for family. Why don't you let me do you this favor?" He stopped pacing suddenly and his face grew dark. "Yeah, well, think about it."

He tossed the phone on the floor and started pacing again, back and forth like a caged lion. " _Little shit._ " He wondered how much Edd Stark told his brat before he fucked off forever. How much did Robb know about his father, The North, The Greyjoys, The Lannisters, and Ramsay? How long would it take him to get here? "Oh, shit," he frowned looking at the clock on the floor, "it's like five in the morning already!" He bit his lip and sunk back down on the futon. "Well, _fuck_..."

***

"When is he coming? Soon?!"

Roose didn't even get through the door when Ramsay started jumping all over him. "Come sit down. I'll tell you what's happening."

It was only shock that kept him from exploding. "He doesn't love me?"

"Love is a vulgar word, Ramsay, I told you not to use it." Roose knelt to look his son in the eye. "What good is sadness? Do you enjoy feeling hurt? You're better than that. Start planning to get what you want in life before you're just rotting stinking flesh in the ground. You can weep all you want then. If you're good, if you keep working hard for me, I'll help you." Ramsay nodded.

He even felt a little better, until he was alone in his big empty room. Then all he could do was lie in his big, empty bed, holding onto the pillow he hadn't washed since his only friend had left him. Sometimes he'd take out the lock of sandy hair, or his vial of tears, and try to remember when both things would fall on that pillow from a living, breathing being he could reach out and touch.

***

Ramsay was making love to his Reek one last time before he had to leave. It was slow, and intense, they never broke eye contact. The boy without a name or home couldn't talk or move. He ached seeing Ramsay hurting. He just wanted to say, "I love you." He tried to with his eyes, and Ramsay said, " _I know, precious._ " So they both blocked out the world in sweet anguish together.

That's when Theon's phone rang again. Ramsay growled and answered it. "Yes, Bob?" he smirked at the indignation on the other end. "Yes, fine," he thrust into Reek more eagerly now. He could tell from the curling corners of his wide eyes and his furrowed little brow, his puppy was smiling back at Ramsay despite himself. " Fine, fine. He's good, by the way, I tended to his wounds," he went in as deep as he could, Reek arched gorgeously and moaned. He gripped Reek's hip tightly with his free hand and traced his protruding hipbone with his thumb. "Pfft, sure, _Bobby_ , I love to talk. I'll wait for you. I can be very patient." He started going faster and bit his lip as Reek rubbed his head against his porcelain arm, his face in a euphoric grimace. "Right now? He's still in bed." He pulled the phone away and laughed, struggling not to pant while he spoke into it. Reek came first, then he pulled out and came on his chest." He bit his tongue and swallowed trying not to giggle like a fucking maniac, "I better get him out of bed and cleaned up for you!" He threw the phone across the room and curled over laughing. "God damn, is he always like that? Was he just born with a sour stick up his ass?"

He held Reek's knees and sighed, looking at the rising sun breaking in the window. " _I'm so fucking tired of being patient though_."

After Reek showered, Ramsay dried and dressed him. He changed his bandages. "You remember what to tell them?" He nodded sadly. "Good. He might try to turn you against me or take you away from me, what do you do if that happens?"

"Call you."

"Right. What else did you learn? Tell me again." Ramsay kept shifting to catch Reek's nervous gaze. He frowned and grabbed his chin to make him look directly at his Master. 

He swallowed, "Not to touch anyone else but you. Don't try to make girls happy, don't let anyone else play with me. No more drugs, no more smoking, or getting drunk, or fucking up."

"Good. And?"

He shuddered, "I'm..." His eyes dropped, which was more defiance than Ramsay could take right now. His hand flew from Reek's chin to his throat. "Reek!" Tears came to his eyes, but he continued. "I'm your Reek, Master."

"You're going to try to leave me again. Don't bother denying it; I see it all over your lying face." Reek started shriveling and weeping. "Hey, look at me," Ramsay said in a softer voice, "I still love you. I'll always love you. I'm coming for you, I won't stop until I bring you home to keep. Be a good boy; I'll take care of everything." They both turned towards the hallway when they heard the garage door rumbling open. Ramsay pulled him to his chest and held him tightly. At first Reek submitted like a ragdoll, but when Ramsay straightened to pull away he wrapped his arms around his Master tightly and took sanctuary on his warm chest, for just a moment longer.

They came down stairs to Robb marching through the living room. "Get out!" he pointed at the open door.

"Oh, ok. Come on, then." Ramsay smiled with a sliver of one corner of his mouth and pulled his Reek along.

"Not him, asshole, YOU. Out! Now! Theon, go to your room."

Ramsay tensed but felt Reek looking at him, waiting for permission, and he relaxed. "It's ok," he whispered, sounding like a concerned friend, "Keep your phone on you." Reek nodded and slunk away in a despondent stupor.

"Don't look to him!" Robb called to Theon's back.

His once brother looked back to Robb, as if to apologize, but just looked lost and, dropping his head, walked upstairs.

"You still want to talk?" Ramsay smiled kindly and motioned towards the open door, as if he was making a cordial invitation.


	27. Stalks Its Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Follow me," Robb ordered, unconsciously trying to make himself taller.

"What? Out the open door ten feet in front of me?" Robb stopped in his tracks hearing that fucking caveman guffawing behind him, in his own home. His shoulders tensed up and fists clenched. He was hanging onto his sanity by it's last fucking thread. He hadn't slept since he received the call that destroyed his world. He was stoic and brave watching his _murdered_ father die, he was strong and compassionate for his crumbling family. Now he just needed _one_ fucking reason to unleash everything he'd been holding back onto something or someone. This dumb bastard just kept the reasons coming.

"I think I can make it," Ramsay snickered and laid his filthy hand on Robb's shoulder, electrifying Robb with hate, "but how gallant of you to offer to lead the way." Ramsay walked past him, out the door. Robb inhaled deeply, collected himself as well he could, then followed. Ramsay stopped at the taxi parked behind his car. He leaned in the window then popped out. "Bobby, did you not pay your cab fare?" 

Robb had forgot in his anger. If he could just sleep, or forget for a moment his father's white, sunken, face, strapped with tubes and wires, the beeping machines around him, the smell of ammonia and bleach, his mother's screaming...

"I got it!" Ramsay paid the driver and apologized for Robb loud and clear enough for him to hear. The taxi pulling away was enough to finally set Robb in motion; he strode towards Ramsay in a red fog. The impertinent fucker was still smiling at him. He walked to meet Robb and stopped, leaning against the shiny red car his daddy must have bought him.

Before Robb could approach and start his tirade, Ramsay held up his hand to stop him and said, "No, no. No need to thank me." His phone buzzed, so he took it out of this pocket and started texting someone, like Robb was some nobody boring him. Ramsay smiled to himself, glanced at the house, and kept texting. "Well? Did you change your mind or what?"

Robb didn't even know Ramsay was addressing him for a second; he didn't even bother to look up from his phone. "Look, you fucking prick, don't you ever come near my family again or-"

"Whoah, Bob, Bobby! Hey now, we're all friends here! No need to be rude," he finally looked up, feigning concern, "and, in case you've forgotten, your family isn't here. They're in the capital. My condolences, by the way. Your father was an honest man, a _real_ leader. Was that all you wanted to say then?"

Robb felt knocked off what had seemed like a sure course, almost too shocked to be angry. "You have no idea who the fuck you're talking to. I mean Theon, and you know it," he said through gritted teeth. "Stay away from Theon. I don't want you to call him, see him, or come here-"

"Or text him?" Ramsay made an exaggerated wince, then smiled, winked, and went back to texting. "Oops. Ok, so why am abandoning my little friend? I missed the part where you gave me some kind of incentive."

"Someone ratted my father out and got him murdered. Someone dug up information on him and handed it over to his enemies. His secretary gave me a letter he had written in case of his- ... in case this happened. All it had was hopes and love for his wife and children, and one warning: 'Keep Theon away from the Boltons.' So what am I supposed to think?"

Ramsay looked up again and seemed sad, "That's all he said about Theon? Oh, shit. Don't show him that letter, it will crush him. Soooooo... what? I have no idea what you're implying here, Bob. When was the letter written? I know Theon wanted to stay with you all as a child. He was afraid he'd be 'thrown away' from your home," Ramsay turned his nose up and rolled his eyes to the side, sadly, "guess I can kinda see why. Yikes. He thought after your parents threw him out he'd cycle from one terrible place after another; like when he was in foster care after his mother's 'episode.' Did you not know about that? You look surprised. Well, what am I saying? I don't talk to the help either, really. Couldn't tell you were my gardner's from and he's told me, like, three times. But _now_ ," Ramsay came closer with sympathetic eyes and a low, compassionate tone, "now Theon's falling apart with all these issues no one here has deigned worthy of their time to be bothered with.

So, come on, just let me take him home with me. He wants to come with me, he's dying here. My father is loyal to your family and to the Governor, whose already agreed to the arrangement. I know you mother would be so happy to be rid of him. Now that the bastard's in the military, she could be alone with her children at last. Let her have her home back. Give her some peace while she deals with this terrible tragedy."

"Get off of my property and do not ever come back," Robb said clearly and coldly. He looked Ramsay up and down and shook his head, disgusted. He turned his back to Ramsay and left him to go deal with Theon. There was so much to figure out. All his suppressed anger began to fall on a much less imposing target than Ramsay before he even reached the stairs to house. Suddenly, he was pulled back by his hair a cold blade landed on his chest but stopped, just barely piercing his shirt and skin.

"You have no idea who the fuck _you're_ talking to, you spoiled little shit," a guttural voice growled in his ear. He was pulled backwards away from the house. He stumbled and gasped, he was pulled along in shock, back to the driveway. "Your father didn't tell you anything did he? Or you would know better. He didn't really think he'd die so early, he thought he'd climb himself out of the shit-filled swap he let Robert Baratheon throw him into before he died. My father always called him an optimist, he also calls optimists fucking morons."

Ramsay twisted and threw Robb against his car, and moved the knife to his throat. "He could never make up his mind, your _dead_ father. He wanted to be good, he did, but he wanted to make Baratheon happy even more- so he got his hands real fucking dirty. When a job was too terrible for noble Ned, who do you think he called to do it? I am," he chuckled and shook his head, "trying _very fucking hard_ to come up with a reason not to just gut you here and now. Think you can you help me out with that?"

"Ramsay! Stop!" Theon's footsteps padded quickly down steps and then burst towards them. Ramsay smiled caustically and put the butterfly knife back in his pocket with a flashing twirl. Theon turned Ramsay's shoulder and looked at him with teary eyes, "What are you doing?!"

"Talking. What are you doing? Why don't you go back to your room, like you were told to?" Ramsay raised an eyebrow, and glared impatiently.

"Don't! Don't hurt him, please!" He slammed into Ramsay and wrapped his arms around his waist, crying into his chest. 

Robb didn't understand what he was seeing. Where was quick, sure Theon and his blackout rage? Arrogant, protective, Theon who spit on everyone and attacked like a rabid dog when the family was threatened? Cold, distant, Theon who smiled and walked away with some bullshit cutting remark when he was in pain? Who was this child throwing himself into a strangers arms and fucking begging?

***

"Please, Theon! Show me how to punch like that! Come on, I want to a be a boxer like you! Please!"

"You can't be a boxer like me, Robb Stark. I'm a fucking Greyjoy, we're great fighters and we don't beg." Theon looked down on Robb with his sly smile. His little freckled face was serious as ever, but his eyes expressed adoration. "Alright, first don't leave your chest open and vulnerable like this, turn to side. See?"

"Theon, tell me how to make a girl like me."

"I'm kind of in the middle of game, kid." But he was just staring at his computer with his head in his hands.

"You're supposed to help me! I know you can; you have like five million girlfriends. You have to help me, my dad said so!"

Theon snorted and turned around with his mocking smile. "I don't think this is what he meant. You need help with your homework? I'll look at it after dinner. Leave me alone until then, ok?" There was no anger in his words and Robb knew he'd give in. After dinner Theon leaned in his doorway, "So who's the girl you like?"

"Theon, I need you to get me some weed."

Theon lifted his sunglasses to squint at him, then put them back. "I can't do that, Robb, That shit's not for kids."

"You aren't _that_ much older than me! Don't you have some? Let me try it, my friends all have! I'm the only one that hasn't."

"Your friends are full of shit and, no, I do not have any fucking weed. Look, maybe when your parents are out of town, I'll get some just for you and I- no friends. We'll just stay here and chill. I know how to get medical marijuana from a licensed dealer; you don't want some skunk off the streets that could be laced with who fucking knows what. Don't ever do anything harder or I'll kick your ass myself, then hand you over to your mom, ha ha, have fun with that."

"No friends? Not even Jon?"

He took a drag from his cigarette and laid back down on the raft. He pushed his foot against the pool's side and started gliding away through blue water, "Haha, no, _especially_ not Jon." Robb watched him drift away from the deck.

"Theon! Sansa's fighting with her boyfriend in the driveway and my dad's not here!"

"Theon exploded out of his room and out of the house. He was pulling Joff out of car through the window when Robb and Cat got there. When he saw the red handprint on Sansa's face, he didn't stop punching Joffrey until they both pulled him off.

"Enough, Theon!," Cat looked horrified. "What have you done?!"

***

For almost a decade Theon had been the same cavalier person with a smile on lips and a fire deep in his heart, so who the fuck was this imposter? And why did he run to Ramsay? That stranger, that asshole, that fucking psycho!

"THEON!" Robb ripped him away by the arm, amazed at how light he was. How had he not noticed that he was taller than Theon now? When did that happen? Theon staggered and hugged himself. As his sleeve pulled back, Robb saw the bandages. "No. No! You are not going with that psychopath! I don't know what's going on with you, but we'll fucking figure something out." He pulled Theon close to him and said, under his breath, "Why won't you let me help you?"

Theon just looked up at him like he'd asked why Theon didn't fly to school. "Robb, you don't know what you want and I don't know when you'll figure it out, but I don't think I'm a part of it. Why don't I just go with him? It will be better for everyone." Robb would never have imagined Theon could look so broken. He looked like he should be on his death bed, but didn't have the time to rest. 

After all these years he opened up, not to a brother, but to a _beast_? 

He glared at Ramsay who smiled sweetly. "It really would be better, _safer_ , for everyone."

"If Theon suddenly left without permission, especially while my father's death is still under investigation, he wouldn't be very safe at all. If he dies because you make him betray us, I will dump his body on your doorstep. Why don't you think about that, and I will talk to MY brother alone. Now leave before I call the police."

"Robb," Theon gasped in anguish, as if he'd been stabbed right then.

Ramsay smiled warmly, then jumped on Robb, grabbing his head with both hands, and pressed his forehead to the auburn curls. He was shaking with rage and seemed to gnash every syllable with his snarling, mad-eyed face, "If you fucking _breath_ on him too fucking hard I will fucking kill you by tearing out your motherfucking throat with my own goddamned teeth. It will be _so personal_ when I kill you; like making love to you, but with an astounding hatred instead. I want your death like I want air in my lungs. I want every second, every sound, every smell, the taste of your blood, the sound of your last gasp for air, your warm skin going cold and tightening as it stiffens and yellows. I want it evvv-er-y-thing, so close, right in my _face_ , all over me. I want to swim in your agony and feast on your destruction. I want to see your eyes bulge out in horror and watch your gaping wound spurt blood in a slower and weaker rhythm until it stops and pools. I'll spit on your smug little face when you empty your bowels into those nicely tailored pants." 

He leaned in to Robb's ear and whispered, "Oh, and, if you decide to hurt Theon, do me a favor and gain some fucking weight. Because I'm going to wear your skin for a fucking jacket and you aren't giving me much to work with. Maybe I'll make a jacket for Theon instead. I won't tell him, of course. Would you like that? To stay close to him when you're dead? _I'll make him wear it when I fuck him, and I'll cum all over it._ "

He pushed Robb down on the pavement. "But, hey, you think about it, boss. Take your time, talk with _my_ Theon. If you change your mind and do the only thing that makes sense for all concerned, then I won't bother you or your perfect family ever again. Unless you come to me for a favor, that is. Afterall, we are all friends here- if 'work friends', friends at least."


	28. How Much Longer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay turned to Theon's miserable ghost, pulled him close with an arm around his shoulders, and told him, "No one will hurt you but me."

Ramsay gave Robb a meaningful look over his shoulder, then grabbed his Reek's face with one hand. "Keep your phone on you."

"Ramsay," Theon whispered. "I came out to give you this." He picked up the dufflebag Ramsay had left in his room.

Ramsay looked at the bag, then back at Theon. "What would I ever do without you?" He smiled and patted his Reek's cheek twice before frowning and throwing the bag in his car. He flashed a wild grin at Robb and waved 'goodbye' with fluttering fingers. His car wasn't even out of sight when Theon received a text.

**Did you open it?**

Theon put the phone in his pocket without answering. He looked at Robb, still laying in shock on the pavement. He walked over and offered his hand to help Robb up. The look Robb gave him made him physically recoil. Robb looked away and pulled himself up to sitting in the lawn. Theon sat down next to him and lit a cigarette. He held the pack out to Robb, who took his first one.

When they got inside Robb sat on the couch and bent over his clasped his hands. Neither had said anything since Ramsay left. Theon kind of hung around the couch, not sure of what to do or say. He was too exhausted and defeated to bullshit his way through things. He took a few steps closer and almost touched Robb's shoulder. Then he stopped and took as many steps away, watching the back of Robb's head. "Robb," he said in a lost voice, "I'm so sorry you lost your father. I'm so sorry he's gone. I don't really believe it. Whatever else..." he wiped his eyes his the sleeve of his hoodie, "you know, I loved him. I love you. Just tell me what you need."

Robb was silent, as Theon had expected, so he wrapped his arms around himself and headed for the stairs.

"Where the fuck are you going?"

Theon stopped and slowly turned, closing his eyes. _I can't do this. No more games. Not today._ He came back and sat on a chair perpendicular to Robb. He rubbed his mouth and ran his fingers through his hair. "If you want to talk, I'm right here. I thought you wanted me to leave."

Robb's eyes flashed up to meet his, "And just... what? Pretend that didn't happen? That your new best friend didn't pull a fucking knife on me on my own fucking property. _Fuck_ , Theon!" He pinched the bridge of his nose, then sat up straight and started tapping his fingers on the couch's arm. Theon had a flash of Ramsay pushing him against it and tried to shake it out of his head. "What the fuck was that? Tell me what is going on. What has been going on in my house while I've been preparing for my father's funeral?"

Theon's mouth fell open. "I didn't..." the accusations in Robb's face hurt too badly, he didn't know what to say or how. So he let Ramsay do the talking for him. "I'd been calling since I woke up. I couldn't get a hold of anyone. I didn't know what had happened and after so long Ramsay called me. He had heard from his father, who had heard from Robert." Theon swallowed and rolled his melancholy eyes to the floor. "I didn't understand at first. Because you were all gone, and no one answered, I thought the family had been taken out. I didn't know it was just him. I didn't think... I just... didn't want to be here all alone." _"_

_When you lie, it has to be as close to the truth as possible. Then you learn it and believe it, and it's not a lie anymore."_

"And that psycho that keeps answering your phone? Who just threatened to kill me? I know _my_ father is dead, you don't have to tell me that part. I'm waiting for the rest of the story. Why was that animal in my home, Theon?"

_"He's going to care more about me than you, even after you say you tried to off yourself."_

"Well, when he told me I... reacted badly, so he came over. He just came in. I didn't lock the door, I guess. He stopped the bleeding and stayed with me. So I wasn't alone. I didn't want to go to the hospital, I wanted to be here for you. He woke me up this morning and you came in all pissed off and told me to," he couldn't help gritting through the phrase, demoralized as he was, " _go to my room_ , so I did. I saw he forgot his bag and came down with it, and he was on top of you." He looked up at Robb with genuine, concerned confusion. "What happened?"

"Is that really it? Why did you want to leave with him?"

"He said I shouldn't be alone..." he broke away from Robb's judgmental stare, and tears welled up in his eyes again, "... he said no one wants me here."

"You can't talk to him again, obviously. I always, always, thought you'd fuck us over by sleeping with a whore someone paid off and talking too much because you were drunk or high or both. I would have never guessed it would be a man, that degenerate, that just walked right in offering... what? A friend? A brother? What?! Is it drugs?"

"What are you talking about?"

Theon threw his hands out and shook his head desperately.

"You always used to disappear with him at parties and you'd never talk about it. You stayed with him for a whole winter, and you never talked about it. I know my father stopped letting you see him, and I know he and Roose Bolton argued over it. So what, exactly, do the Boltons want with you?"

"I... but, it's not like-"

"My father left us a letter. It has wishes and hopes for all of his children and only one warning; 'Keep Theon away from the Boltons.' Who shows up and starts answering your phone and taking you out, and buys your car back, out of nowhere, _right_ before my father was murdered? Right before you interpreted the message that took you a little longer than usual, the warning that came too late? The sociopath who just threatened to kill me in front of you, while you stood there listening  _after you ran into his arms_!" Robb stood up and crossed his arms, "I don't want to believe this but what the fuck am I supposed to think?!"

"Robb, what the fuck are you saying?" Theon extended his hands palms up, shaking. His chest was heaving over his breaking heart.

"I don't think I can trust you anymore."

"You never did. Your father's the only person here who tried to give me a chance."

"And now he's the one we're burying."

Theon stood up and clutched his chest, "He was trying to protect me! That's why he said to keep me away from the Boltons! Ramsay has... problems, he..." Theon looked at Robb and shook his head raising his hands, "how am I supposed to tell you this? Your father told me not to tell anyone, you specifically. You used to look up to me. I just wanted to protect you! How am I supposed to tell you?"

"Get away from me."

"Robb, for fucks sake! _I tried to translate that message!_ I called him and told him about it! I told him about Ramsay! He said he was proud of me! I told you! I told you!" His voice was winding up to a fevered pitch, "I fucking told you to pay someone else! I told you I couldn't do it! I did the best I could! I told him in time! Oh my god! You have to believe me! Ramsay hurt me! I wasn't... whatever the fuck you think I was doing... plotting some conspiracy with him?! What do you even think I did?! Do you know? Or just want to blame me because I'm here like a dog for you kick?"

"Oh, really? He hurt you? Your new best friend? The only friend you've ever brought into this house? The person you've been spending time with in secret? The man whose arms you cried into? You never really talked to me! You _never_ opened up to me! You always pushed me away!" And Robb pushed Theon, slamming him back into the chair. "Why him?! Why?! I don't even want to tell you what he said about you!"

"I was trying to stop him from hurting you!" Theon screamed in exasperation.

"Like _that_? Who are you? Where is my big brother, and what the hell is this?" Robb stopped then looked Theon over with a distinct uneasiness. "Are you fucking him?"

With that, Theon felt the last nail being hammered into his coffin. "Fuck you." He started weeping, against the remains of his willpower. Theon stumbled back to his room, despite Robb calling for him with apologies in his bewildered voice.

There was no lock on his door so he maneuvered his futon to rest against it. It never worked that well against Mr. Stark, but Robb wasn't that big or determined. He collapsed on the floor and shattered into writhing fragments.

Knocks wrapped against the door. Robb softly called his name.

 

_"Theon, Theon! Take me with you! I wanna go! Spiderman's my favorite!"_

_"I'm not going for the shitty movie, kid. I'll take you and Jon sometime when there's not a pretty girl coming with me."_

_"There's always a pretty girl with you! Common, Theon! My mom said you would!"_

_"Well," he rubbed his temple, but turned around with a half-smile, "Get some money from her for popcorn and shit, then."_

_"Thanks! I'll be right back!" he ran off down the hallway calling for his mom._

 

Theon pulled his phone out and answered Ramsay.

**yeah i did. did u open yet? u r a better liar than me. u win again**

 

Ramsay had opened it and did see Theon had been in his bag. The files were missing, a pillowcase was in their place. Luckily, Ramsay had taken photos of the records Ned kept. He'd just tell Father he thought it safest to leave them. That wasn't his concern right now.

He was so very close. Ramsay actually had him in his hands, below him, he was inside his Reek and now he had to start all over again.

 

Ramsay had been too miserable to plan. He'd just been throwing knives into the target board to clear his mind when Theon's text came in, and no doubt he was Theon again.

Theon was curled up on the floor of his pathetic room. Robb was knocking at the door, Ramsay was calling on the phone. He had to pick one to answer, but he couldn't decide which was worse.


	29. Find Yourself Afraid to See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When, at last, it seemed like neither Robb or Ramsay were going to go away, and the floor was not going to swallow him, Theon realized he had to do something.

**can't talk now- robb won't leave me alone**

**Are you ok? Did he threaten you?**

**its fine- hold on**

**Do you need me to come back?**

**NO!**

**Then you'd better fucking call me.**

He sat up and pulled the futon back, swearing under his breath. Before he even had back against the wall, Robb came through the door. Theon stood up after he finished pushing it into place and turned to Robb who grabbed his shoulders. "Come with me to the capital. We're having the viewing and funeral there. He'll be interned at the family mausoleum here."

"Ok. Get my keys, and I'll drive us. Give me an hour to get ready, ok?"

Robb didn't release his hold and searched Theon's eyes. His mouth hung open but then he shut it and looked away. 

"I'm gonna go smoke. Why don't you eat something." Theon pushed past him and went out to the balcony. He waited to see Robb walk downstairs through the glass door before he called Ramsay.

 _"What?!"_ He whispered before Ramsay could answer. "You got what you wanted, I'm not going to tell anyone. Just fuck off!"

"I didn't get what I wanted. I got want Father wanted. I'm trying very fucking hard to not just come back over there and take what _I want_ right now."

"Stop! Just leave me alone! I'm not going to cause you any problems, you know that. You have what you-" his voice broke and he lit a cigarette with shaking hands to keep from crying again. "I believed you. I fell for it, everything. So, have a great fucking laugh at my expense."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING HANG UP ON ME!"

Theon sank under the roaring voice and sat on the cool concrete, leaning against the iron bars. "I'm not!" he protested.

"Listen to me, you fucking listen, I get you're upset. I understand that you're confused. That's fine. You can be angry and hurt. I'll be patient and explain everything to you when I can, but don't you _dare_ doubt my love for you."

"But..." he cried in a small, tired voice, "you're always tricking me! I want to believe you, that's the fucked thing. What do you want? Please don't fuck with my head anymore, just take what you want and leave me alone."

"What do I want?"

"I don't know."

"What do I want?"

"Information about arms shipments?! I know your father's a majority stockholder in Baratheon's weapons manufacturer. I know you 'run errands' for him."

"Shut up. Don't say anything else over the phone, idiot. Yes, I got information from that house. So why am I still calling you? You think everything has been leading up to this? Me taking some fucking papers I got when you were spaced out on the couch? **Everything?** Everything we've been through? _Everything I've done for you?_ All these years, for some bookkeeping records? Does that make sense?"

Theon sniffed and rubbed his eyes on his shoulder. "No."

"I didn't lie to you to get that shit, I took it. Every time I manipulated you it was to get one thing; the thing I want. What do I want?"

"You're confusing me."

" _What do I want?_ Money? No. Drugs? No. Power? No. What do I want? What do I want? Tell me."

Theon started calming down. He took a drag and exhaled slowly. "Me."

"That's right. I want my Reek. Everything I'm doing, everything I've done is to get closer to you. I want you back home to keep forever."

"But-"

"You don't have to understand right now, you just have to know. Tell me you know."

Theon leaned towards the glass door and looked around. "I know you love me, Ramsay. I'm sorry."

"Good boy. I understand, and I forgive you." His sweet voice poured over Theon's wounds.

"You do?"

"Yes, even for smoking. Now put it out."

Theon rubbed the ash on the concrete floor beside him and tossed the butt away from over the railing. "Sorry."

"Did you tell him what I asked you to?"

"Yes. He wants me to drive him back to the capital for the funeral." Theon grabbed a string hanging from the back of the cuff of his jeans and started wrapping it around his finger.

Ramsay sighed. "Alright. It won't be long after the funeral, we'll be together. Everything will work out. Keep your phone with you. Call me tonight. Don't forget your charger. And don't forget to redress your wounds in six hours. What do you do if you're in trouble?"

"Call you."

"That's right. Call me right away."

"Ok." He was still too weary and hurt to address Ramsay by anything but his name. He was glad Ramsay didn't push. He felt much better, less empty and alone.

The ride up with Robb was long and awkward for the most part, but they were able to talk and even laugh a little. They tried to ignore what they were driving to until they arrived at the Lannister's Mansion. "Do we have to stay here?" Theon asked rhetorically. Robb just sighed.

The wake was a strange ordeal. A lot of people were laughing and sharing memories until Cat came around. She expressed nothing but suffering in her every movement. There was a lot of talking to do, and Robb ended up doing it. He took all the condolences, gave appreciation for the well wishes extended to his family, and absorbed stories people had to share about his dead father.

Theon hated watching how the children suffered. Sansa bore her grief bravely and seemed so much older now, but her eyes were always red. Arya was furious and shut down everyone who got near her. Bran had a strength Theon found astonishing, but which fit him perfectly. He mourned with all his heart but seemed to draw from an inner well of peace and spent his energy sharing his compassion with each suffering person he could touch. Jon had leave to attend the funeral. He looked bigger, stronger, and more like a man than ever, but broke just like a lost little boy. Rickon was the hardest to be around because he just didn't understand.

The funeral was well done and attended by many. The burial was the crescendo that seemed to break all the proud, strong Starks at last. Theon hugged Arya when she fell screaming in a rage. He let her hit him until she collapsed on his shoulder. He looked up at Robb to see if he wanted Theon to take her away, but Robb just held his mother and bore into Theon with an expression he couldn't read.

Every night he was away he'd call Ramsay in bed. Ramsay would help him forget, and help him sleep. When they all got home, it was really the same as before, but with Jon staying another week before going back to his base. No one could understand how the house felt so empty.

That night, Theon was finishing the homework his teachers emailed him. Ramsay had changed his password, but it wasn't hard to figure out, what other word would it be? The hard part was figuring out how to change it back. Ramsay changed a lot of the settings on his laptop and blocked his the porn sites he went to. He was working on a paper on civil disobedience when he heard a sharp thud on his window. He looked over but then went back to writing. Then a louder thud ponged off the glass. He came to the window and opened it. Ramsay threw a box at him, "Catch!"He did instinctively. "Open it! It's a present." Ramsay blew him a kiss and sank back into the inky night.

Theon closed the window and opened it to find a new, sleek, smartphone. It buzzed with a text.

**Keep it with you. Use it to call or text me. See you at lunch tomorrow.**

Theon remembered he had figure out how to act at school tomorrow. It felt like his chance to set a precedent, to maybe set some boundaries


	30. Head is Unraveling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon walked into Jon's room while trying to shepherd the kids downstairs to breakfast but stopped after entering, and tried to leave quietly.

"What?" the gathered covers seemed to grumble.

"Nothing, heh, I almost got you up for school," Theon.

Jon sighed and rolled over, "I'm not going to breakfast. I know she doesn't want to see me. I'm just going to try to sleep through this week."

Theon rubbed the back of his neck and took a few steps closer. "Well, Robb doesn't want me to drive, why don't you just use my car while you're here and go see some friends or something?"

Jon sat up, "Really?!"

"Yeah. Someone should use it. Ask Robb for the keys, he holds them like they're the end of my fucking leash."

"Haha, that sucks. Thanks, Greyjoy."

"Fuck off, Snow." Theon looked a the floor. _"Sorry your dad died." That sounds so stupid. 'Sorry' like I bumped into him._

"What? You want to be buy you booze or something? Is there a catch?"

"No, I... you know. I'm just... he was your dad too. That's all... I'm sorry, Jon." He looked up and slid towards the door, "If you want to buy me liquor, I'm a rum guy. Don't fuck up my car like you do everything else, Snow." _Oh fuck, get out before he starts crying._ Running down the hallway to start helping with breakfast, Theon had to laugh wondering if he'd out-cried Snow lately. _I'm better than him at everything._

In homeroom all the sophomores were taken to the auditorium for some kind of assembly. Everyone was talking about a murder. There was a rumor about a Satanic cult, and everyone gave the Goth kids a little extra room in the halls. Theon was practically tapdancing to avoid all the girls trying to stop him. He smiled sadly and kept saying he wasn't feeling very good. _"What the hell do I say tomorrow and after that?_

"Theon!" Katlynn came rushing towards him with open arms, her half-shaved blue, black, and green colored wild waves bounced on her shoulders. When she smiled this big, her two dimples showed and her eyes sparkled. He smiled back and opened his arms. He picked her up and spun her around. Then held her just a moment; she felt wonderful and so _soft_. She smelled like strawberries and beamed up at him with her perfect, symmetrical, face. "I missed you! I'm doing well enough to come back to school now!"

"I'm so happy for you! You look awesome! Is it in remission then?"

"It's not cancer!" She giggled, so happy, "It's actually a kind of autoimmune disorder that caused-" everything went silent when he saw Ramsay approaching with a terrible dark frown. He took a step back from her and tried to pay attention to what she was saying. "... so, I mean, there's still a lot of testing to go through, but the possibilities are all manageable!"

"God, that's so great. Well, um, I think they're trying to get us all seated, I hope I can see you later." She looked a little confused, almost hurt. He wanted to apologize but Ramsay was almost there. So he just gave her his sad half-smile and went the other way. He wove through the crowd like he was dodging punches and climbed to the third row of the bleachers, ignoring everyone calling his name. He sat and put his head in his hands. He didn't think he'd have to deal with this until lunchtime. He forgot what he was going to say and do. He was tired and agitated and wanted a cigarette more than anything. He'd been too chickenshit to smoke since Ramsay forgave him for breaking that rule. He didn't want any fucking rules on him, but if he broke that one now he knew Ramsay would take it personally.

He rubbed his hands into his eyes and hoped, for what must have been the millionth time, to just disappear. He sighed and looked around, feeling nervous. Just about everyone was seated now. He didn't see Ramsay or his friends anywhere nearby. He turned to the girl next to him and asked, "Do you know what this is about?"

"Guess who?" His eyes were covered before she could answer. Ramsay sat down behind him, still holding his eyes. He touched his knees to Theon's shoulders and pulled his head back. His other arm wrapped around Theon's chest and slid up close to his neck. "Guess."

"Ramsay." Part of him wanted to be pulled all the way back to Ramsay's chest, but most of him wanted to tear away and tell him to fuck off in front of everyone.

"Not good enough," Ramsay whispered in his ear.

Waves of heat flourished in Theon's chest and below. He hated his body for being played so easily. Ramsay pulled his head back further and then pulled it to the side. He ran his nose lightly on Theon's neck. "How many little girls are watching you?" He spoke right to Theon's neck, with warm breath so close. "How much do you think I'll do in front of the entire class? Want to find out?"

"Come on, Ramsay, please." He tried to sound unamused and struggled to pull Ramsay's hand away. Ramsay kissed him slowly with a caressing tongue, right below and behind his ear and started moving down. "Ah," he had flashes of coming under Ramsay while Ramsay held his hips and told him to be good. "Ok! _Master,_ " he whispered. He wondered if that girl was watching and heard him.

"What? Did you say something? It's so loud in here." Ramsay spoke right into his ear and then pulled his head further to the side.

"Please," he gasped and his head rolled a little when Ramsay's hot mouth kissed his flesh where his neck and shoulder met. " _Master_ " he exhaled in a whisper. Ramsay moved to where his spine protruded right below his neck, licking and sucking. Theon squirmed and grit his teeth, trying to stay quiet. He twisted the ball of his foot on the floor. _"Master!"_ he whispered desperately.

"Did you miss me?"

"Yes," but how he wished he was lying. Ramsay uncovered his eyes and wrapped his other arm around Theon's chest.

"That's sweet. So who the fuck was playing with my toy?" Ramsay leaned down so his face was next to Theon's.

"Kate?! I only hugged her! I never slept with her, I never even held her hand, I promise. She just got out of the hospital."

"Wouldn't want to send her back, would you?" Ramsay pinched his nose twice. "Huh?" He patted Theon's chest.

"No, please, I'm sorry." He kept thinking everyone would be staring at them any moment now, but only a few people seemed to look and talk. His voice was hollow when he promised, "It won't happen again."

"Good." Ramsay kissed his temple, but didn't release him. The assistant principal approached the podium and started talking about a star wide receiver who was found murdered. A torn bag of heroin was found near his body; it was heavily cut with "dangerous household chemicals". So they wanted to talk about the young life cut short, and then the dangers of the new epidemic the school was facing. They put up a photo of the victim, and Theon squinted at it. He was so familiar. Ramsay whispered to him, "Do they do this when people overdose?"

"No."

"Were other kids that died poor and not selling tickets to football games?"

Theon smirked then tried to be more serious. "Yeah. No one really seemed to notice."

"Derrick's life was just beginning. He was a bright, kind, young man-" the principal droned on. Kind? Theon remembered that guy now, he was an asshole!

"- _failing all his classes but getting passes to play..._ " Ramsay whispered in a perfect impression. Theon laughed. Ms. Valencia, one of the teachers standing nearby looked around but didn't see who laughed.

"... and do you know what Derrick would tell all of you, if he only could, today?"

" _Let me out of this fucking coffin!_ "

Theon clasped his hand over his mouth and but couldn't keep from laughing. The Ms. Valencia came over quickly, "Mr. Greyjoy!"

He blushed deeply. "I'm sorry."

"Theon,"Ramsay shook his head, in mock disappointment. "Really?" Theon pursed his lips trying not to smile. "It's nerves," Ramsay explained. "His father was just killed."

"Oh, yes," she remembered and her expression softened when she noticed how he was red with shame. "Well, why don't you go to the counselors office and asked to be excused from the assembly?"

"I'll take him." Something about Ramsay's reassuring manner and the quick escape from the uncomfortable situation made her agree. Ramsay grabbed his wrist and pulled him out, pretending to chastise him for being so rude. He keep pulling Theon along, faster once they left the auditorium. He looked back, grinning, and started running. Theon struggled to keep up. Ramsay pulled him into a bathroom and let go. "You rude little boy. Very disrespectful, puppy."

Theon smiled and bit his lip. "You made me laugh! That was real fucking funny changing the password on my laptop by the way."

"Yeah, I know. I didn't mean laughing, stupid. I mean carrying on with that little girl of yours."

"What?" Theon backed away, Ramsay was in between him and the door. "But, it was just a hug! I never did anything sexual with her! We're just friends."

"You don't have friends. You have people you want to like you, and you end up whoring yourself out just to get a smile."

"What? Are you saying _I can't have friends_?!" Theon shrunk back further when Ramsay came closer.

"Yes. I thought that was clear. You can hang around _my_ friends. Come here."

The same heavy, painful weight Ramsay seemed to always have at his disposal bore into Theon's chest. Nothing else made him hurt this way. "Please, don't be mad at me." That's not what he meant to say, with his cracked voice and heaving chest, but it escaped him anyhow.

"It's ok. I'm going to punish you, it will be quick, and then I'll forgive you." Theon came towards Ramsay looking hopeless. Ramsay grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. " _It's even ok if you like it."_ He pulled Theon into the handi-accessible stall and locked the door behind them. "Put your hands on the railing."

Theon gripped the thick metal. Ramsay ran his hands on Theon's hips and pushed against his ass. He smiled when his Reek arched his back underneath him, in his hands again. He could see him coming back now. His hands wrapped around Reek's narrow hips and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Reek inhaled sharply. Ramsay took down his jeans and boxers. "I'm going to get you some cute briefs. I don't like boxers on you."

"I don't like briefs!" Theon snapped turning up his nose. There was a kind of hissing zip behind him and Ramsay's belt snapped across his ass. "Ow, fuck!"

"What do you like, my love?" He struck again, harder.

He hung his head. "Whatever you want, Ramsay."

"Oh good! 'What I want' is exactly what I like too." He struck again, this time where Reek's ass met his thighs. "It's like we're soulmates."

"Shit! I'm sorry!" He twisted to the side under the pain.

"Sorry, _what_?" He struck so hard Reek's knees buckled.

"I'm sorry, Master!"

"You're so forgetful. Come here. Turn around." Theon tried to hide that he was half hard already, but Ramsay shook his head and he dropped his hands to his sides. The cheeks on his face warmed too now. "You can put your pants on." Ramsay put his belt back on as Theon did. "Now come here to me." He wrapped his arms around his Reek. "Are you really sorry?"

"Yes! I'm sorry," he promised with a wobbling voice.

"Good, then I forgive you. Don't do it again, or I won't be so easy on you." Reek's forehead fell on his chest and his arms wrapped around Ramsay's waist. "Good boy." He grabbed his Reek's face by the jaw and kissed him deeply. He sighed in Ramsay's mouth. Ramsay growled and grabbed his ass. Reek whined but didn't beg or pull away. "I missed you so much. I have to have you again. I don't want to wait anymore." He whispered frantically and undid his own pants. "Be a good boy for me. Make me very happy. Help to fucking hold me over."

Reek dropped to his knees and pulled the slit in Ramsay's boxers to release his cock. He licked underneath, from the base to the head, then licked the head and took it in his mouth. He looked up for approval. Ramsay's eyes were sleepy with pleasure, he was biting his lip. He smiled at how beautiful his pet looked, trying to please him. Still, his need was a bursting intensity, so he held the back of Reek's head and started fucking his mouth. "That's my good boy, my pretty boy. You're doing well. Oh, fuck," Reek started swirling his tongue in some amazing way while Ramsay thrust into his mouth. He gagged when Ramsay went deeper. "You're so good, keep going. It's ok, just keep being good for me. You're perfect. It's ok, almost there." Ramsay's head flew back and his fingers dug in the back of Reek's skull. "Good boy, take it. Swallow it for me. Good boy, Reek."

Theon flew back and hit the wall. "Why?! You said you forgave me! Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! What did I do? Why?! You didn't like it? What did I do wrong? I'm sorry, I never did that before I didn't-"

"Stop! Stop that babbling, and come here. I'm not mad; you were perfect." He pet Theon's face but he wouldn't stop crying. "What is it? You think ... that's a bad name?"

Theon nodded, hysterical. "That's what you call me when you hate me."

Ramsay felt like he had food poisoning in his chest. It must be something like regret. "No, I never hated you! I won't ever hate you! I love you, you fucking idiot! That's not a bad name. It's alright, I'll show you when we... when we're not in a fucking bathroom stall. Look at me," he lifted Theon's face gently and kissed his nose. "You made me very happy, and that's not a bad name. Don't you remember our night together? Did you think I hated you then? No. Of course not. You remember now."

Theon nodded, "I'm sorry. I'm stupid."

Ramsay put a finger on his mouth and shook his head frowning, "Listen, I know-"

The door opened and Theon jumped up into Ramsay's arm shaking. He wrapped his legs around Ramsay's waist and clung tightly. Ramsay positioned himself in front of the toilet, holding Theon. Someone walked in and asked, "You ok in here, son? I thought I heard voices."

"I was jus' singing to myselv." Ramsay answered.

Theon curled his nose, trying not to laugh and mouthed, "What accent is that?!"

Ramsay shrugged and made a bewildered face, mouthing, "I don't know!"

"Hmm. Long as its not a drug deal. That's uh, we have a no tolerance policy so... tell your friends."

"Hokay, but is jus' me." Ramsay bit his lip, grinning.

Theon pursed his lips tight to keep from laughing and shook his head. A few moments after the door closed they looked and each other smiling. Then Theon's smile dissolved. "You can put me down now."

Ramsay moved him over the wall and let his ass rest partly on the bar he'd grabbed minutes ago."I don't want to let you go. Do you love me?"

Theon looked quite sad, but then looked up and earnestly answered, "Yes."

"Ok. Then I guess I can let you go for just a little bit longer."

Theon let his head find comfort on Ramsay's chest for just few moments. He set aside his plans for lunch, maybe he could try to set up limits tomorrow.


	31. Your Favourite Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon remembered being woken up at the end long car trips and seeing Stark children being carried into the house just like this while he and Jon were shaken awake and told, "Get up now and go to bed."

Sometimes he'd still see little Rickon carried like this; his arms wrapped around his parent's neck, his legs around their waist, head laying on their shoulder, and Theon would wonder for an instant how it must feel. He tried to make a father of the man meant to kill him, but Mr. Stark wouldn't have the chance to play either part now. So here's the Monster to love and kill him, and tell him what he really is.

"Let me down. We have to get out of here." Theon said, straightening. It felt like trying to get out of bed Monday morning when he forced himself to pull away from Ramsay. His head kept falling back where it wished to linger.

"Do you want to?" His voice was low and soft by Theon's ear.

"I don't know, maybe not, but we really should." Theon remembered falling asleep watching Silence of the Lambs with Ramsay downstairs on one of the winter days they had together. He woke up in Ramsay's sprawling plush bed, between fleecy sheets. Ramsay's arm was under his neck and pillow, his hand was holding Theon's wrist.

"It's like you brought this whole other lifetime with you. I worked so hard to bury it, to remake myself, and now this ghost is here. I can't put it all together."

"I know. It will get easier the more you stop fighting. So, do you want to do it?" Ramsay pulled away enough to look him in the eye.

"Here? Now?!"

"No. After school, I think, or they'll start looking for us when we don't show up to class."

"Wait, what?"

Ramsay rolled his forehead against Theon's. "We should get out of here. Let's leave school, this town, the Starks, your little girls, Father, everything. Let's get on the highway and keep going; just me and you. I've been saving money in an account I made with a fake id. Father doesn't know about it. What I do is pretty lucrative; I have more money than you would believe. We can drive to another state, ditch my car somewhere and buy another. Then just... see what happens."

Theon felt like he was already being pulled along. Out, yes, away, yes, far from his prison, yes, away from his lies, yes, with the Monster, so be it, run, yes, free, yes, pull his neck out from under the guillotine's blade, yes and now. "Ok."

Ramsay's eyes searched all over his face, then he smiled and inhaled deeply, "Ok."

 

Theon's head was swimming for hours after. He was weightless, his mind already halfway out of town until it was time for lunch. He had to see Kyra once more before resigning himself to keeping only her memory. He didn't want to be talked out of another stupid, rash decision. He didn't want any advice from her now, and had none to give. He just needed to say goodbye. He looked all over until her face shown through the crowd like the morning sun breaking through clouds. He pushed his way through the noisy people crossing this way and that in front of him. He ignored each time he heard his name. Someone was blocking her, yelling at her, and her perfect brown eyes were red and teary. He started shoving his way through and pulled the blonde, screeching boy away from her, spinning him around.

"Hey-" but he stopped recognizing Joffrey's little, vile, pinched face. He still looked like he was twelve, the fucking hissing cockroach. "YOU! What the fuck are you doing talking to her like that you motherfucking pissant!"

"Pissant!" He gaped, then noticed people looking and put his hand on his hip, snorting. He kind of waggled his pelvis as spoke with his nose in the air. "Just who do you think you're talking to?! Don't you know who I am? Do you forget who _my father_ is and what I can have done to you?!" he spurted, seething with indignation. "And who are you to talk to my woman? You're not even a Stark, you're their fucking slave, aren't you? You think I don't know?" He snapped back to Kyra, "Why are you letting him talk to me like this? Why don't you make him apologize? Are you just going to sit there while this trash spits on me?! Can't you find two brain cells to-"

Theon punched him right in his shit-spewing mouth. 

Joff stumbled back and fell. He immediately started crying and stomping. His white face turned bright red and shook with impotent rage. He looked around wildly and waved his hands high over his head, "Get over here, you worthless neanderthal! HURT HIM! HURT HIM," he shrieked.

The high pitched screaming rang in Theon's ears until he cracked and drove his fist into the red face to smash it to speechless pieces. He kicked Joff's ribs while Kyra screamed. Robb appeared in the red haze beside him, yelling something and pulling him back. The shadow of the biggest kid in school fell over him and Robb fell away. Theon smiled as he turned to face the linebacker everyone called 'The Hound,' who did not smile back. He looked bored and unhappy but swung at Theon anyhow. Theon spun away nimbly, sunk, aimed and shot his fist into The Hound's right kidney. He was enormous and strong, but disinterested, slow, and confined to the tight space in between tables.

"We don't have to fight, big guy. I don't have a problem with you," he said, still smiling.

"Well, you've made yourself a problem for me," The Hound grumbled.

"Sounds like my fucking luck," Theon laughed.

The Hound raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "You're a happy little lunatic," he swung again, and Theon dodged in swift, fluid motion. "shame to break that smile."

"Hey, thanks," Theon swept under the path of another heavy fist. "People are always telling me I need braces." He blew a kiss and winked.

"KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" Joff was screaming in a harrowing pitch.

The voice alone made Theon see red. He snarled at the mangled-face tower in his way. Things seemed to play in slow motion. Lean and quick, he was a hard target to hit. He got another kidney shot in, but The Hound only seemed annoyed by it. He plodded towards Theon growling, as people scrambled to get away. Kyra kept pleading with Theon to stop. Robb was yelling for him to 'get over here!' Roz screamed for him to run. But he didn't want to stop, listen, or run and he laughed madly. He swept The Hound's feet and the giant came crashing down.

He raised his foot to stomp down when, "THEON!" cut through everything and made him crash, cowering, to the floor. 

Ramsay's boot came into view, by his knee. " _Get up_."

Theon stood, with his head lowered, and slinked back behind Ramsay.

The Hound squinted at him. "Theon? Hey, you're that little cunt that fucked Derrick's girlfriend!"

Theon remembered how he knew the dead boy's face now. _I'm coming to get you, Greyjoy!_ he had yelled, Ramsay had been near the vending machines, just a few feet away. Theon had ignored talk of Derrick's brutal murder all day.

"I'm going to have you killed for this!" Joff cried in his shrill voice. 

Theon turned slowly to look at Ramsay and saw the Monster standing there, laughing at Joffrey. _Why didn't I see? What have I done?_


	32. Your Favourite Prize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Theon," Ramsay spoke calmly without looking back at him, "why are you playing with Joffrey Lannister? Did you get lost looking for me?"

Now everyone really was watching them. "Yes, Ramsay. I'm sorry," he muttered loud enough to be heard.

" _Lannister_!" Joffrey sputtered, nearly choking on the word. "YOU! How?! YOU call ME- how dare you! KILL THEM! KILL THAT BASTARD!"

Ramsay's friends closed in around Theon. Alyn and Skinner flanked him, he stepped back and bumped into Damon, who smirked down at him. They were watching Joffrey and the Hound, though, they weren't salivating for Theon's blood. Their breathing was quick and heavy, they licked lips, grinned, sneered, twitched, turned and stamped around him, each one just itching for the word, the look, that would unleash their attack. 

"Are you as deaf as you are ugly!" Joff hissed at the dispassionate giant behind him. 

The Hound shrugged, "Outnumbered." 

"He's a lot smarter than you," Ramsay said flatly, while his grin slowly grew wider. "Look at how he dances when he's screaming, Damon. Do you think you could make him dance like that?" 

"Better." Damon's laughter fell like an avalanche at Theon's back. 

"Theon's not allowed to come out and play. Do you want to play with _me_ , little Joffrey?" Ramsay watched Joffrey's anger drain away. He reminded Ramsay of a wounded fawn he'd found while hunting. It scrambled with two working legs, getting nowhere. He watched it's heart beat madly in the grips of frenzied desperation. Ramsay crept closer, and when a small branch snapped under his boot, the fawn collapsed and shuddered as it's heart gave out. "Is it true you were born with an inoperable tail? Is it between your legs?" 

"Ramsay, the principal's coming," Theon whispered. 

"We were just leaving. I'll come up with some good games for us to play." He grabbed Joff and wrapped his arms around him, as if hugging him. The Hound and Ramsay's friends all seemed to crash forward and halt at once. Everyone froze while Ramsay whispered so only Joff could hear. "You tell your pretty mommy that you love her tonight, and kiss her goodbye tomorrow. She's the only one who'll morn you." Then he kissed Joff's cheek and shoved him back into the Hound, waving goodbye with his fingers. 

"Let's go talk somewhere private, boys," he called, leading them away. They followed whistling, and making lewd gestures at Joffrey's pale and empty shell as they left him. Damon's heavy hand fell around the back of Theon's neck and pushed him forward. His adrenaline crashed and his stomach dropped with it. They ushered him out of the cafeteria and upstairs to an the bathroom at the end of the hall. Ramsay made some kind of signal Theon didn't catch and Alyn leaned against the door. Damon shoved Theon and sent him flying to Skinner who pushed him, with less success, to Ramsay. He regained his footing in two steps and stood in front of Ramsay, instead of stumbling to his knees. It only seemed like an act of defiance afterwards, when Ramsay's face suddenly contorted with anger. 

"Wait-" he put up his hands and started to sink, but was on the wet tile before he knew what had happened. His jaw and temple radiated sharp, deep pain with every heartbeat. "Ah, fuck," he whined seeing blood pool in front of him. He must have cut his forehead. "I'm sorry," he slurred. He tried to grip the ground, the room was spinning. 

"What's wrong, Rocky? Not so tough now?" Alyn called from the door, crossing his arms and frowning bitterly. 

Theon shook his head, "No. I'm not tough." He blinked hard and slow, but couldn't focus. 

"Get up." Ramsay called from a bright light. But where the fuck was 'up'? Theon tried to crawl and climb his way to the top of his legs. He looked around, trying to make the figures sharpen into people and faces. Ramsay sighed, and looked him over, "You're a fucking mess." 

"Yeah," he slurred and smiled his warm, lopsided smile, swaying. 

"Don't-" Ramsay looked away so he wouldn't smile back. _Fucking idiot._ "Damon," he stepped forward when called, and Ramsay motioned towards Theon, " _Catch him._ " 

Theon twisted around to look at Damon, "Aw, are you gonna catch me?" he turned back to Ramsay and only caught his eyes for a second before his eye was slammed shut by the weight barreling into it. Either Damon did catch him, or he was floating above his corpse, he couldn't be sure which was more likely. 

He heard voices, but couldn't understand a thing being said. His head dropped and he saw blood running down his favorite shirt. "Aw, man! I look so good in royal blue." Ramsay wiped his mouth to hide his smile. 

"He didn't put up a fight at all. I thought he'd be more fun," Alyn complained behind Ramsay. 

"Of course he didn't fight me," Ramsay snapped, staring daggers into Alyn. He came to Theon and pulled his bloodied hair out of his face. "He's mine. Aren't you?" 

Theon nodded, "Uh huh. Oh no, I'm gonna-" he waved Ramsay aside unable to push him, and threw up on the floor. Damon chuckled and pulled him up, to standing again. "I'm sorry. Did it get on you?" 

"No." 

"Ramsay?" 

"What?!" 

"I'm sorry." 

"Shut up!" He looked around at his boys and said, "Look, he's mine. You all fucking understand me? Don't let anyone touch him but me. _Anyone_." he pulled Theon's head up to look at him with the eye, not swollen shut. "I'm sicking of your Don Juan fucking bullshit, you stupid slut. You're not a man, are you? You're just my bitch. You better start being good for me. Next time, I won't be _your_ blood I spill." 

"No, no, please! I'm sorry! I wasn't-" 

"Don't you start fucking lying to me. I know why you were fighting with Joffrey. It wasn't for _me_ , was it?" He asked, biting on the last words. 

Theon's head sunk and he started crying. "No. I'm sorry. Thank you for giving me another chance." 

"Oh, poor little guy." Damon said lifting his limp body in the air, as if to show him to Ramsay, "He's so sweet. If you're done with his bulllshit," he pulled Theon to his expansive chest and looked at his broken face, "I'll take him." 

"No!" Theon struggled in sloppy, disorganized movements. His limbs just weren't responding, and the world was going gray. 

"No?" Ramsay pulled Theon to himself, gripping his shirt and jacket in both hands. Theon couldn't stand on his jello legs without Damon's help and sunk before Ramsay. He hugged Ramsay's legs. 

"No, please. I'll be good." He tried to look up but swooned. He came to in Damon's arms. Ramsay was cleaning his face Alyn was yelling, "Hurry up!" Everything went black and then a strange man was in his face asking questions and looking around at the boys for an answer when Theon couldn't provide it. 

He woke up on the examination table in the nurse's office. It felt like he had just been here with Kyra. He sat up slowly and gripped his pounding head. The nurse came into the room shortly leading someone in behind her. "So just have his mother sign this and he can come back Wednesday. I'd like she and Theon to meet with the school psychologist." 

"Um, I'll... uh, let her know." 

"Here's a list of things to watch out for and things to avoid. He needs plenty of rest for the next few days. No homework, no chores, no yelling, or lectures, he just needs to rest." 

"Oh. Yeah, ok." 

"Here, honey. Keep this on your eye and take these for the pain. _No drinking, Theon._ " 

"Thank you. Sorry for the bother." He told her. The icepack felt good on his eye. He couldn't see who else was talking until he stepped forward and took Theon's arm. "Snow?" 

"Come on." 

"Hey, thanks for picking me up. If it was Mrs. Stark I'd just swallow this whole fucking bottle." He let Jon lead him and hold him up when he stumbled. " _Is anyone watching us_?" he whispered. 

"Uh, no. I wasn't busy or anything ... and I felt kind of bad anyway." 

They almost made it to the door when Theon stopped. "Bad about what?" 

"Mmm, well..." Jon lead him outside. 

"Oh Jesus, you're making that face aren't you? Your stupid 'oh fuck!' face, right? It's my car, isn't it? What happened?" 

"Just a scratch." 

"God damn it, Snow! You had it for like _six_ fucking hours! And they let you in the fucking Army? They gave your ass a real loaded gun?!" 

"Nurse said no yelling." 

Theon tried to give him a sharp look, but couldn't make him out yet. "Where are you, god damn it? Look at me! Know that I'm looking at you, real pissed off and not fucking amused!" 

"I got you vodka and menthols." 

"Oh, you did? Well... fuck it. It doesn't matter anyway. None of this matters. Just give me my presents, please." He made grabby hands in the air in front of him until a glass bottle and little box found their way to him. He felt the bottle, "Is this Greygoose?! You fancy fucker!" His fingers danced, tapping on the cigarette pack for a moment, but he put it in his pocket instead of opening it. 

"So, what happened to your head?" 

He chugged the vodka. Jon started repeating the nurse when Theon answered, "You really want to know?" 


	33. Your Favourite Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once they got in the car and Jon pulled away from the school, Jon asked again, "So, what happened to your face?"

"Ramsay happened," Theon shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. "I think he's some kind of serial killer. I blew him in the boys' room so he'd stop hitting me. Then I told him I'd drive off into the sunset with him, because he asked so nicely. That was before he gave me the concussion."

Jon was silent. Theon flipped the icepack over. The other side felt a little colder on his eye. "Hey, Jon?"

"What?" Jon whispered.

"I can't see your face; does it look like this?" Theon let his mouth hang open, turning the corners of his mouth down, and furrowed his brow.

"Funny." Theon laughed, knowing from his tone, it was the perfect impression. "Fine," Jon muttered, "don't tell me. I don't care."

Theon kept drinking with one hand and kept ice on his eye with other. "I know you don't."

"Well, the nurse said," Theon sighed loudly while Jon continued, "that you were in a big fight. Are you and Ramsay..." Jon paused, searching for the right word.

"What?"

"In a gang?"

Theon took the ice pack off just to try and look at Jon, but could only make out his profile. "You know you still have the face of a twelve year old?" Jon huffed and rolled his eyes. "Let me ask you this though, do you have the saggy, withered, low swinging, white-haired balls of an eighty five year old? Do you, Jon?"

"No! Ugh!" 

"Because you sound like you're eighty-fucking-five years old. A gang? What, like a 'street gang'? Here? Me? Oh yeah, Jon, you found me out. Our gang 'color' is paisley. What the fuck are you even talking about? Sure, Jon, we're the fucking Jets." He started snapping his fingers in time. "Jon, Jon, is this the face your making now?" He made a sour pout. 

"I can't tell what face you're making; yours is all swollen and cut," Jon said sadly. "Well, you must hang out with him a lot. You sound just like him." 

"What the fuck do you know?" Theon muttered.

After a long pause Jon said, "I have a girlfriend."

"Bullshit." Theon smiled. _I bet you'll marry her._

"I do! You should friend me on facebook, you can see pictures."

"I'm not on facebook. Are you on instagram?"

"What's that?"

"Nothing," The corner of Theon's mouth rose. "So, you like her?"

"I love her."

"That's cool, Snow. You fuck her yet?" Jon was quiet, Theon could _hear_ his blushing smile. "Aw, that's sweet. I'm happy for you, man."

"She's, like,... a lot more... experienced than me. I kind of worry, I don't know..." Jon cleared his throat, "you've ... you're _experienced_. Could it still ... mean something to her? Like it does for me?"

"Does she love you?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's special to her, like it is to you." Theon took the cigarette pack out of his pocket and started spinning it in his fingers. "Just talk to her. I'm sure it means a lot. Do you even know what you're doing in bed?"

"She likes it." 

Theon laughed, "Well, that's all that matters."

Jon cleared his throat again. "I'm going into officer training. I'm going to get a college degree and everything. I've been, you know, doing pretty well."

"You have a strong build and good heart like your dad. Christ though, I didn't think anything could make you shave your head." Jon laughed and Theon grinned. "Your dumb face doesn't even look the same. How do you hide your eyes when you're pouting now? You don't look like a whiny little shit anymore, good thing I know better. You look like a real person with a separate life far away. I bet you have friends now who love and look up to you, and you're going to marry this girl and see all kinds of different places in the world together..." Theon felt sad suddenly and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Oh fuck, Snow. You're kids will _never_ stop crying. What are you going to do?"

"Shut up, Greyjoy." Jon pulled into the Stark's neighborhood, getting closer to the house neither of them belonged in. "So, you're not going to tell me what happened?"

"I have the feeling you wouldn't believe me if I did." Theon stopped spinning and started tapping, with trembling fingers, on the pack in his hand. "It's not good and I don't know what to do about it.

"Is it pot?"

Theon sighed. "That's not a question, Snow. Fucking, why I am trying to talk to Leave-It-To-Beaver over here? 'Golly, Theon, is it marijuana cigarettes?' You're really, truly, in the fucking Army?! It's not an elaborate ruse and you're really working at a Chuck-E-Cheese in Cleveland or something? Jesus fuck!"

"Do you need help?"

Theon lowered his head and was glad for the icepack covering his face. He swallowed hard and said, "Yeah. I need you to just remember, if you ever manage to remember this annoying, loud-mouthed, fuck up you knew once before your life got better; just remember something good I did. Make it up if you have to. Tell your kids about it one day, if they stop crying long enough to let you. Also, if I ever need help from you, Jon, remember to just fucking kill me," he started laughing from sheer nerves but, it sounded convincing, "don't let me go on like that." 

Theon stopped laughing and slowly took the ice pack off his face. He could make Jon out now, but his features were still blurry. "Jon?" Jon turned away, looking out the driver's window. His now large, muscular shoulder, with no hair falling in black curls around it any longer, was shaking. _Well, you didn't change that much._ "Oh, Christ, Snow. What?! God damn it, come on, don't do that."

"I'm sorry you're stuck here."

Theon curled over like he'd been hit in the stomach. He took a deep breath, sat up, and opened the bottle to start chugging vodka again. When his stomach warmed and his muscles relaxed, he stopped. They were almost at the house. "It's not your fault, Jon. There's nothing you can do. None of this is your fault. Just go ... go have a life for me, ok?" They pulled in the driveway and Jon parked the car. Theon patted him on the back, "Tha-" Jon pulled him in and hugged him. "Oh, ok," Theon muttered, "Alright, alright. Thanks, Jon."

 


	34. Your Favourite Slave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon's phone buzzed in his pocket, sending him flying back against the passenger door.

"Shit!" He looked around wildly, but didn't see anyone looking back.

"What? What is it?" Jon asked looking around, though he wasn't sure what for.

"Nothing, nothing. I got to take this," Theon stammered, clumsily rushing out of the car. He grabbed his backpack and the vodka and ran to garden in the Stark's backyard. "Hello?"

"How long are you suspended for?"

"Um," Theon searched for the papers he'd stuffed in his backpack. "Three days. I'm suspended?"

"Yeah, for fighting."

"Oh. Are you suspended?"

"No, idiot. Sandor is. She didn't hit you, did she?"

"What? Mrs. Stark? Eh, I dunno, I haven't had to face her yet."

"Well who the fuck took you home then?!" Ramsay sounded unsettled. Theon wondered what else was going on with him.

"Jon! I guess he was home when they called, I didn't call him! I was unconscious!"

"Who the hell is Jon?!" Ramsay yelled.

"My brother!" Theon yelled back. "What? What was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, wait, I think I remember him. Wait, isn't he in the Navy?" Just like that, he sounded calm again.

"Army, yeah. He got leave to attend his father's funeral. He goes back sometime soon, I forget when." Theon sat crosslegged on a stone bench by a little brook that ran through the yard. In the Spring it would rise and babble against the rocks it slowly smoothed, but the air was getting colder, the nights longer everyday, and little brooke seemed to shrink with the trees until it too was just a skeleton.

"Oh. Why are you still slurring? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Theon hugged the bottle and looked around again. He sat on the ground with his back to the bench. "No, I'm fine. I have to go, Mrs. Stark-"

"Why do you sound guilty? What did you do?"

He gulped and felt himself shrinking. A chill ran up his spine. "I just took something for the pain," he grabbed a loose thread from the hole in his jeans at his right knee. He didn't remember when he tore them. He wrapped the thread around his finger, watching red stripes pop up against white lines. "I'm not _drunk_..." he muttered.

"Didn't the nurse tell you not to drink for the next week?" Ramsay asked through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, you didn't tell me though. Other people tell me shit I ignore all the time, they don't matter."

Ramsay snorted, "You fucking brat. Pour it out." Theon started to protest but he stopped him, "NOW. Send me a photo of you pouring it out and one of the empty bottle. Is it just one?"

"Yes. Just one. Ok, I'll text you the photos right now, then I really have to go in, ok?"

"Send me one of your face too."

" _Ok_ , I will! Let me go, please."

"Hurry up. Keep your phone on you."

"I know!" Theon hung up. He wished he could slam the phone to hang up, like they did in old movies instead of hitting a spot on the screen. He chugged as much as he could stand before pouring it out. He took the pictures of the vodka flowing out and then the bottle in the grass, empty. He had the camera change to the forward-facing lens, to take a picture of himself and was shocked at his face. His left eye was just starting to bruise, but was still swollen so he could hardly see his eye. His right temple was bandaged, and his left jaw was swollen, with a small cut on his jawline. He made a big smile, then took and sent the photo.

**Good boy.**

**Fuck you.** He erased it before he could send it.

He put the phone in his pocket and went inside. Cat found him in the kitchen and started yelling, even as he slid her the nurses instructions across the table. He calmly, humbly told her it was Joffrey who started the fight. "He was screaming at Kyra, and you remember how he was with Sansa."

"Who is Kyra? How do you keep these girls straight?!" She yelled in exasperation.

"Kyra, she's my best friend," he tried not feel hurt that she didn't know, "she has been since third grade."

Cat remembered suddenly. Theon had come rushing in the door, he must have run all the way from the bus stop. He used to run everywhere as a little boy, making his wavy hair wild. "Mrs. Stark! Look! I got married today!" He slid a paper over to her on the kitchen table. It was a wooden one at that time, the kids had carved all sorts of things under it by the time Ned gave it away and got the new marble one for them. She looked at his paper without picking it up. There was a yellow and brown haired figure smiling with 'THEON' writen above it and a redheaded figure in a triangle skirt with 'KYRA' written above her. There was a red heart between them and yellow-haired and black-haired doll beside each of them.

"What are these?" She asked, perhaps forgetting herself.

"Those are the kids we're gonna adopt! Then we'll probably have babies, just like you and Mr. Stark!" He was bouncing around the kitchen already looking for a chocolate. "I don't know how many babies we'll have. She doesn't want them right now. I have to get a tie and a job." He stopped and seemed to think. "I have to do school first though. You can keep it if you want! Show the grandbabies at Christmases!" He ran out of the kitchen with cookies he'd found.

She stood there a moment, then tried to collect herself. "Theon Greyjoy don't you run on those stairs again!" She screamed after him, and heard him pounding up the steps, into a crash, then Sansa yelled, "MMMMMOOOMMMMMM!"

She sighed and shook her head. It would be so much easier if he didn't have such a big, reckless heart. She touched the little yellow haired figure he'd drawn in crayon. She could see now it was holding hands with Theon. She wiped it away a tear and threw out the paper.

She looked at him now, his mangled, broken face, waiting there patiently, without complaint, like he always did. When did Theon get so lanky? When did Robb get so tall and broad, and Sansa turn into a beautiful woman? How could she go on watching them all grow without her best friend to help her? She noticed how Theon would look to the entrance, waiting for Ned to come through and calm her down. She wished he would too.

"Theon, go to your room and rest. You're grounded for a week."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry." He turned and left. He did look sorry, he always did. She knew Robb and Ned has always asked so much of him, but she only ever asked one thing of Theon, _don't make me love you._

Later, after dinner, Theon was watching Monty Python and the Holy Grail on his laptop when Robb threw open his door. "Joffrey didn't make it home, Theon!" He yelled from the doorway.

"What? Theon looked around, wondering why Robb seemed to be accusing him. "I didn't really hurt him... I don't-"

"RAMSAY! That psycho got him, didn't he?! He said he'd 'play games' with him, remember? I remember! I asked around about him, Theon, he killed his ex-girlfriend! That's why he left his private boarding school! Look it up if you don't believe me! He threatened to kill me and you're still hanging out with him?!"

"Robb, wait, he said he'd kill you _if you killed me_ ; that would never happen! You both said shit you didn't mean. I'm sure Joff will..." but his voice trailed off at the icy look on Robb's face. "What? You wouldn't... Robb, you'd never..." but he couldn't find the courage to ask. He wasn't so sure of the answer.

"I'll do what I have to for my family."

"What does that mean? Robb, what are you saying?" Robb turned his back on Theon and shut the door.

Theon never wanted to smoke so bad in his life. He went to google and searched 'Ramsay Bolton.' A handful of articles did come up about his dead girlfriend. He was with her when she died, but everything he read said she died from a speedball overdose. He'd called 911 and stayed with her until the ambulance arrived. He was questioned, but never arrested or charged with anything. His family refused media interviews and Ramsay had been sent to rehab. His father made statements extending sympathy to the girl's family and expressed worries about his only living son's well-being, stating that his brother's unexpected death had been very difficult for him. He started a trust to fund non-profit drug rehabilitation programs in her name; The Myranda Bathory Foundation.

Theon looked up Ramsay's old school and searched for _news_ results from the last two years. There were seven mysterious deaths, all students from Ramsay's class. In comments below the articles, students and locals called them the 'black class' of Weeping Waters because they were 'always' attending funerals. There hadn't been any tragedies since last April, however; Myranda was the last one.

Theon closed his laptop and put it on the floor. His head was spinning with things he couldn't understand. His phone rang, the one Ramsay had given him.

He picked it up with a trembling hand. "Hello?"

"What are you doing?" He sounded like he _knew_. How could he know? Theon remembered all the changes he'd made on his laptop... could he do something to watch what Theon did on it? Was that possible, or was he being paranoid?

"Nothing. I'm grounded." His mouth was dry and his throat was tight.

"Do you love me?"

 _He knows, he knows! "_ In some way, I do. You know I do." Theon started hyperventilating, though he tried not to.

"What's wrong?" Theon didn't know how to answer, so he didn't. "Reek,"

" _Please don't-_ "

"I had a long day. I can't sleep. Do you have trouble sleeping? I bet you have nightmares. Do you stay up until three in the morning pacing, like I do?"

"Yeah."

"I need you to help me. Tell me I own you."

"Please, I can't, don't make me. I don't want to do this anymore." He turned and curled up into a tight ball on his futon.

"Tell me."

"I don't want to, please. _I'm scared of you_." He whispered desperately.

"You know I love you," Ramsay used his honey voice to soothe Theon. "I never loved anyone else, except my mother. I'll bring you to see her sometime. You know I'll always protect you. Be a good boy, I know you want to be so good for me. Tell me."

Theon whined and pulled the blankets up to his face. "Please, don't make me. I'm scared." When tears started falling, he began to feel less horrified and more exhausted.

"Tell me."

Theon sniffled, and inhaled deeply. "You own me, Ramsay."

"Good boy. Poor baby, you made me hurt your pretty face. I don't want to hurt you like that, not in anger. I want you to be a good boy for me. You want that too, don't you? You're just scared and confused."

" _Yes_ ," Theon whispered.

"It's alright. I'll help you. I'm not going anywhere. Tell me you love me. Tell me you're my slave."

"I love you, Master," Theon started drifting, and his muscles released their pinched grip all over his body. He drew deep, slow breaths. "I'm your slave."

"That's my good boy. Are you touching yourself?" He rumbled in a low, throaty voice.

"No," Theon's head rolled, he was hard. It was disgusting of him, he thought, but couldn't really force himself to care like he should.

"Go on, I want you to. _Now_."

"Ok." He gave everything to Ramsay, told him everything he asked to hear and listened to all he had to say, letting the words reverberate in his mind. When Ramsay told him to cum, he did that too.

Then he surprised himself by weeping and crying out, "Robb hates me, and I don't know why! I swear he blames me for killing his father, but I didn't! I tried to translate that message! I would never-" he chest was rocked with sobbs that made him gasp for air. "Everyone hates me! Why?! Why do they hate me?"

"I know, pet. They're so mean to you, aren't they, my sweet sensitive boy? No, they were never fair to you, my poor Reek. They don't love you. You know I do, don't you?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, I know you don't want to hear about other people. I didn't mean-"

"It's alright. You don't have any choice in living there, do you? I know that you're forced to live with them, and that Robb, especially, is cruel to you. He blames you for everything, doesn't he? He never appreciated you. He doesn't even know what he wants from you, does he? You'll feel better when you live with me again. Wouldn't you be happier in my bed right now? I'd be petting and kissing you, then I'd hold you until you fell asleep, wouldn't you like that?"

"Yes, Sir. Could you please tell me to sleep now? I'm so tired."

"Ok, puppy, you need to rest. Relax your shoulders, now your neck, now your back, now let go of all the tension from your shoulders to your fingers. Take a deep breath, in through your nose. Now out through your mouth. Relax your muscles from your hips to your toes. Take a slow, deep breath. Hold it. Now let go very, very, slowly. Good boy. You are a good boy, don't let that asshole tell my Reek otherwise. Who matters?"

"You. Only you."

"Good boy." Everytime Ramsay called him that, he melted further and his heart seemed to mend a little more. "Who loves you?"

"You, only you."

"That's right. You wouldn't try to leave me because of other people, strangers who don't matter, who made me upset? Would you, my love?"

"No, Master."

"Good boy. Tell me you're my pet, say my name this time, and I'll let you go to sleep with my love wrapped all around you."

Theon swallowed and sighed, "I'm your pet, Ramsay."

"That's a good boy, precious. Go to sleep now. Get all the rest you need."

"Thank you, Sir."

Theon closed his eyes and pulled the phone to his chest.

Everything had faded into silent darkness. Sleep came easily.


	35. A Devil Waiting Outside Your Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon woke up the next day with a terrible feeling twisting his stomach.

It was already a little after three in the afternoon, but he was wide awake now. Sleep seemed to help things fall into place and become more concrete in his mind. He had to send Kyra a text to reassure himself she was alright. He sat up and his head started pounding. He crawled off his futon and looked through his backpack for his own cellphone. The one Ramsay gave him buzzed with an incoming text, as if the phone itself was jealous.

" _Hold on, hold on_ " Theon muttered under his breath. He kept searching through his bag, but couldn't find it. He always kept it in the outside side pocket so he could just slip it out whenever he needed to; if it wasn't there it had to be in his pocket. He checked his jacket and jean pockets and his stomach started to sink. _When the fuck did he take it?_ Theon gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, bursting with frustration. Theon had sat in the third row of bleachers, wearing his backpack, Ramsay sat right behind him and covered his eyes. It would have taken one second to slip it out. 

He called Ramsay on his little gift.

"Hello, puppy. I've been texting you all day. I was beginning to feel ignored."

"Aren't you in school?" Theon walked down the hall to grab a house phone. He dialed his cell phone as he talked. "I didn't think you'd answer. I just woke up."

"Pfft, aren't you clever? I have your phone on silent but, yes, I have it."

"Why?!"

"I gave you a new one," Ramsay said, feigning innocent surprise. 

"Well, it's locked, so just give it back."

"That's pretty fiesty of you. ' _Give it back_!' No. Oh, you locked it? Oh no, what will I do? Restore it to factory default settings and create a new pin? Let's see." The home phone rang, and the caller ID read THEON G. "Hey pick it up and put each phone to an ear so I can yell at you in stereo." Ramsay laughed. 

"Oh my god! Why? What are you doing to me?! I can't do this. I love you, I do, but I'm not doing this anymore. I had friends just two weeks ago, I had a life, clubs, cigarettes, and drugs, and girls, I had Robb, I had a car ..." He hung up and dropped the phone, as though it had burned him. He backed up to the wall and slid down to the floor. It rang immediately. 

_Why was my car towed? I had a student parking sticker. People leave their cars there overnight all the time. The school didn't send me any kind of notice, ticket, or demerit. They should have told me where it was taken and why. Why was it a private lot downtown? He asked why I didn't take my car, like I usually did. How did he know my car was gone? I never gave him the rest of the directions! He only glanced at the map and he took me right to the impound. I would have waited for the bus, I could have just taken the bus!_

His head was so dizzy he ran to the bathroom and threw up in the sink before he could make it to the toilet. He laid down on the cold tile, trying to catch his breath and put his thoughts together. The phone rang for awhile and the buzzed in his room, down the hall. He was sweating and shivering at once. 

Jon peeked his head in the open door and frowned down on him. "Woa, you ok?"

"Why couldn't we be friends before? All these years, I could have had a friend... maybe it wouldn't turn out this way..." he pulled himself up and staggered back to his room. holding his head as Jon watched, looking quite concerned. 

Theon slammed his door shut and pushed his futon until it was up against it. He needed a quiet place to think. The phone buzzed again, and he glanced over before he could stop himself.

 **If you don't answer me, I'm coming over."** (3:10)

 **I'm coming over.** (3:15)

 **Answer the door or I'll break it down.** (3:17)

There was a heavy knock downstairs. Theon rushed to his window. He could barely make out a figure standing in front of the door from the angle he was at, but it was clear enough when the figure disappeared inside. The phone buzzed in his hand.

**Jon let me in. Isn't that nice?**

"Um, I think he's sick or something. You wanna wait here? I'll try to get him for you." Jon said, rubbing the back of his head. 

"How is he?" Ramsay was clearly as worried as Jon. He didn't look like the wild, aggressive kid Jon remembered always stealing Theon away at parties. He was well put together and calm, with his hands in his pockets and an empathy radiating from his eyes, all screwed up in concern. 

Jon sighed, "Man," he glanced towards the stairs and lowered his voice, "I don't know. Ever since my dad... he's been emotional and... just _different_. He got in a fight yesterday and wouldn't talk about it. He was throwing up earlier. I haven't seen him eat once since the funeral." Ramsay sat down and gestured for Jon to sit as well. When he sat Ramsay's expression lightened, almost imperceptively.

"Did you see his wrists?" Ramsay looked away, and rubbed the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable sharing something so personal about Theon, but too distressed not to.

Jon leaned in, " _What?_ Did he try to..." Ramsay leaned in and looked at him with such heartbreak in his face, Jon didn't have to finish the question. "Holy shit! He was telling me to remember him and live a life for him and, just now, I asked him what was wrong and he just walked away like a zombie saying, 'I could have had a friend...' like he was already gone. Oh no! He has a bottle of pain pills and a bottle of vodka," Jon jumped up, but Ramsay stopped him. 

"We have to be calm, I know he's very upset. He tried to say 'goodbye' to me too." He frowned bitterly. "I'll go with you. He seems pretty out of his mind right now. I hope he didn't take that shit already but, if he did, we'll just call 911. They'll send an ambulance, pump his stomach, and he'll be alright, ok? Don't panic, don't yell at him, just try to stay calm and be supportive." As they were walking to the stairs Ramsay couldn't help but shake his head and say, "I _told_ Robb he shouldn't be alone!"

"He and Robb were fighting last night." Jon whispered.

Ramsay stopped on the first step and looked over his shoulder, "Oh, no. About me?"

"I don't know, I think I heard your name though."

Ramsay let out a heavy sigh. "It's my fault..." then, to himself with determination, "No, damn it, it's Robb's problem!" He hurried up the stairs with Jon following. They stopped at Theon's door and could already hear him hyperventilating inside.

"Should I call an ambulance?!" Jon asked with wide eyes.

Ramsay shook his head and patted the air gently in a gesture for Jon to stay calm. He knocked on the door and Theon started sobbing hysterically. Ramsay drew a deep breath and closed his eyes as his head swayed back a little. He must be trying to collect himself. He opened his eyes and smiled sweetly. "Theon, love, come open the door." Things started coming together for Jon; why Robb was mad and distant with Theon, why he hated Ramsay and took Theon's car away. He was so traditional like their father, but severe like his mother. This must be why Theon hadn't been out on a single date or bragged to him about a single girl and why, instead of making fun of Jon for saying he was in love, he was so understanding.

They looked at each other, waiting, and only got a continued sobbing as a response. "Ok, sweetheart," Ramsay called to him firmly but gently, "I'm coming in now. Jon's here, do you want him to come too?"

"No! Please! Go away! Please, leave me alone!" 

Ramsay looked at Jon, "Why don't you come in, until we see what the situation is then, if he's alright, I'll talk to him alone." Jon nodded. Ramsay pushed the door open without much effort. The room was completely dark and quiet except for Theon crying, curled in the far corner of the room. 

"Go away, _please, please, please_! Make him go away!"

"It's ok honey, Jon's your friend. He's not like Robb, right, Jon?"

"I-uh, no."

"It's alright, we both love you," Ramsay said in his honeyed serpent's voice. Jon couldn't see him smiling with giddy menace and he crept towards Theon. "Where are the pills, Theon?"

"The pills?" Theon peeked up from under his arms. He raised his head a little and looked at both intruders, seeming to get an idea of what was happening. "No! No, no, no. No! That's not, don't-" he tried to crawl away from Ramsay as he stood beside him, but could only push himself further in the corner." _Please_."

"Give me the pills." Ramsay ordered. Theon hung his head and started saying he left it in the kitchen when Ramsay went to his futon and searched under his pillow then under the cushion, and pulled out the bottle of pills and his flask. 

"Ok, wait, that's not what it looks like! I always have that there! I just..." but he had no good way to finish the sentence. He hadn't _planned_ on killing himself, he'd only _thought_ about it. It was just nice to feel he had the option, but there it went, into Ramsay's pocket. Jon came a little closer to him and grimaced. Theon followed Jon's gaze to his wrist. He pulled his sleeve down to cover the bandages. "No! That's not what it looks like either!"

"You can't be alone." Ramsay came back to him, "Cat's going to stay with her sister, Jon's leaving soon, you can't be here alone when the kids are in school. You shouldn't be here with just the Starks in the first place." Ramsay ran his fingers through Theon's hair and he swayed and into the touch, whimpering. His eyes darted back to Jon and he inhaled sharply. He tried to stand when Ramsay knelt next to him, but Ramsay put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him back down. "Don't worry about Jon, love," he said softly in a low voice. He turned Theon's chin to face him and kissed him deeply. 

Theon gasped in Ramsay's mouth and his eyes went wide with shock. Ramsay hummed a little and pulled back. Jon was rubbing the back of his head and shifting his weight. He coughed and said, "No, no, you know," he cleared his throat, "I just want you to be happy, Theon. I'm not like Robb. I'd rather you be with someone who cares about you than doing what you were before, you know? I don't," he shrugged and looked around the floor for better words to use. "Um, I'll... should I just, uh?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Could you shut the door?" Ramsay asked with a warm smile. Theon slumped back against the wall, Ramsay pulled him closer. Ramsay watched the door until it closed, then grabbed Theon by the throat.

_"You're not doing this anymore?"_


	36. Through My Clutching Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "YOU'RE not doing this anymore?" Ramsay sneered and squeezed his throat, pulling him to the floor.

"I'M not doing this anymore! I'm done waiting, I'm done being patient. You keep forgetting! You get away from me and you lie to yourself! I'm taking you home, _now_. Get your school shit together. We're leaving now."

"Wait! Can't we talk first?"

Ramsay climbed on top of him still holding his throat. Theon's knees were shaking against his hips. It was making him crazy, but he had to stay focused.

"No. Fuck it, I'll just take your backpack. I can get anything else we need later," Ramsay said but only leaned into him more.

"Give me a chance! We can play a game. If you make me come, I'll go with you and do whatever you want; anything for the rest of the day! If you can't make me, you have leave me alone. We can be friends, but you can't take over _my whole fucking life._ "

Ramsay's hand moved from his throat to his jaw. He kissed Theon softly and grinned, then started squeezing his swollen bruise. Theon groaned and whined squirming under him. "That's clever. How about I just take you home and make you do whatever I want for the rest of your life, and you don't try to fucking stall me. Kids will be coming home soon, I know a maid a cook usually come over sometime after that, so let's leave while it's nice and quiet." Ramsay stood and grabbed Theon's backpack. " _Get up._ "

"Ok, I just have to get my meds," Theon relented, trying not to cry.

"I have them, remember? I'll decide when and if you get any."

"No, my anti-seizure meds. I'll get them." Theon hung his head and went to pass Ramsay, who stopped him.

"I'll get them. You sit your ass down and stay there. Where are they?"

"In the bathroom, down the hall. It's in a bottle the little closet." Theon sat on his futon, and looked all around his little room with tears in his eyes.

"Here, put this on and get your shoes on." Ramsay threw him a hoodie hanging in his closet and went down the hall. He looked in the bathroom closet and found the shelf with medicine bottles, unfortunately, there was a lot to look through. The fourth one he looked at was for Theon and said it was to be used for the treatment of seizures, but the label had yellowed. He looked closer; it expired three years ago.

Ramsay frowned and sped back to Theon's room, but he was gone. His window was wide open and the screen was missing. Ramsay ran downstairs then outside, under Theon's window. He knelt where the screen had fallen and looked for footprints, listening for running. He felt the ground, it was soft and and damp, but there was no indentation where Theon should have landed. No footprints. He lept up and saw the front door had shut behind him. He walked up to it and saw his keys were on the lying on the steps. He knew the door would be locked, but tried anyway.

Now he had to decide if it would be better to knock and keep up the concerned boyfriend act with Jon, or just break in. He leaned his ear against the door and heard Theon and Jon arguing. So Jon probably knew he was outside, breaking in would be a bit of an inconvenience. He rang the doorbell. The arguing just got louder. At last Jon came to the door and stepped outside, closing it behind him.

"He says he's not allowed to leave. He's grounded. I think he's still afraid of Robb. I don't know how much you know about all that; why he's here and stuff. I know your dad worked with mine, and you've done some work for him; maybe you know more about it than I do." Jon rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "I don't know, he's pretty upset. I'm not sure what to do."

Ramsay was about to start talking his way back in when Jon surprised him. "Heh, you must be pretty special to him," he said, smiling uncomfortably.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's so different now. He's sober, for one thing, he's not going out with, or calling girls. I can tell he only talks to the same person, like at nights and stuff. We shared a guest room at the Lannisters for the viewing and funeral." Jon took a deep breath and rubbed his head. His fingers kept looking for curly locks to sweep away. He looked at Ramsay suddenly and put his hands up, "I didn't, like, listen in or anything! It was a huge room, more like a suite. It's just he ... well, I could just tell he was being honest and emotional with the way he was talking. Usually, you know, he'd be putting on a show..."

"Being a jackass?" Ramsay smiled.

Jon laughed, "But they love it! I don't get it! God, he was so fucking shameless. Anyway... I could just tell. I'm sure it will work out. I'll try to talk to him." Jon gave him a sad, but warm half-smile, and went to go back inside.

"Wait," Ramsay said, smiling back and rubbing his head. "Could I get your number? Just, to have someone tell me he's a alive tomorrow?" He grinned, shyly.

"Ok."

"Thanks, buddy."Sansa and Arya were walking down from their bus stop, Robb would be coming soon. "See you later." Ramsay left.

He got a text from Theon.

**Sorry. 2 much 2 fast**

**Where were you?**

**under futon**

**Little shit** Ramsay smirked. **You're going to pay for that.**

**I know**

**Pick up when I call you tonight. We need to have a long talk.**

There was a two minute pause. Ramsay tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and clenched his jaw.

**ok**

"I'll fucking show you," Ramsay said out loud, to himself. "I'll fix it. You need lots of training."

Thankfully, Ramsay had someone to take his frustration on, waiting for him at home, in the meantime.


	37. Afraid of What They See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay finally responded to Damon's calls and texts to say he'd be home soon.

Damon was waiting with Skinner and Alyn inside the gate; he must have let the other two in. Ramsay parked next to their cars and got out, slamming his car door. "What?!"

"Where's the little guy?"

"I don't want to talk about it. He's being difficult." Damon and Skinner looked at each other, not understanding what that could mean. Ramsay leaned against his car and crossed his arms. " _Well?_ Is there a problem or what?"

"No, I got you a present," Damon said grinning.

"Really? A surprise? For me?" Ramsay came closer to look him over, then smiled with flames dancing behind his eyes. "No way! Where is he?"

Damon's smiled fell away, "How'd... in the trunk."

Ramsay punched Damon in the stomach, "You fucker! How'd you get him?"

"Ow, asshole!" Damon laughed, "I just paid his babysitter to fuck off somewhere else last night. The Hound's a reasonable person. I think he would have done it for free. He said the cunt was always shrieking in his ear."

"Oh, Damon," Ramsay reached up to grab Damon's shirt collar and pull his face closer, "you know you're my favorite?" Damon's eyes grew larger as he inhaled deeply, then his eyes darted uneasily to Skinner and Alyn. Ramsay smirked and released him. "Pull into the attached garage. Let's take him to the playroom. I'll be there in, like, an hour." He ran back to his car, pulled out the phone in his pocket, and jumped on the trunk.

**I need 2 c u**

**DO NOT CONTACT ME**

**I'm srry. I luv u, thnx 4 everything u made my life so much better plz nvr date sumone like Joff again**

**What are you doing?**

**Nothn just remember I luv u and u helped me so much take care of urself, remember sum1 loved u**

**What is this? What are you doing? You're scaring me. Where are you?**

**Just a park by a creek im srry im just so tired I have 2 go**

**Are you high? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Is it that Ramsay- is he giving you drugs? What's happening with you?!**

**he doesn't want me 2 do drugs actually- its not that its goodbye**

**STOP - DO NOT DO ANYTHING! I'm coming! I know the park; by our old middle school, right? Just WAIT for me. If your new friend doesn't want you to do drugs or start fights maybe you should have called him!**

"Well," Ramsay muttered to himself, "don't you know all the right things to say?"

Kyra hurried along the creek's sloping bank. Water was roaring below her as it raced and fell over rocks, plunging back into itself. She didn't hear him coming. 

Her neck was caught in his elbow, the sides squeezing her world black. She started coming back around in his car. Her head was rocking against the cold, hard, passenger window. Her neck and shoulder ached. She sat up a little more and found she couldn't move her hand to support her wieght. Her wrists were bound behind her back and tape was over her mouth. She slowly rolled her head over and saw Ramsay happily singing to some music. 

His eyes slid over to her hers and he a smile crept up slowly upon his face. "Hello, sleepy. Get a good nap?" He rocked shoulders and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. "You like this song? It's New Order. _When I was a very small boy, very small boys talked to me, now that we've grown up together, they're afraid of what they see_. Sing along if you know the words, Kyra!" He pointed and clicked his hand at her. "Get it? The tape? Eh," he shrugged, "you'll laugh about it later."

She tried to speak, struggled to make herself intelligible, emphasizing each syllable and raising her voice, but it was hopeless. She dropped her head against the car seat and moaned.

"Yeah, I know what you're trying to say. Who am I, other than 'Ramsay'? Who is that? What does it mean? What do I want? Why am I doing this? And what you really want to know, Kyra, and you might even be smart enough to ask, is how to get out of this alive. Right? Wouldn't you like that? Sure! Who doesn't want to go home and sleep in their own bed after they look death in the eye? Not me. I bet you want to go back to your life tomorrow morning, and how different everything so old and familiar will be for you." He gasped and shook her shoulder exclaiming, "We're here! We're here! We're here!" 

He pulled up to his home and entered the code at the gate. "All I need for you to do is help me work some shit out. It won't take long, a few hours. Then, if you can make me some promises, and make me believe them, you'll go home tonight and the worst pain I'll inflict on you will be removing the tape. That's not so bad is it?" He turned to consider her for a moment and studied her face, "You might even like this, a little bit." She stared right back at him. "That'd be something." He pulled into the garage, parking beside Damon's car. The door rumbled shut behind them, blocking out the daylight.

"Did you start without me?" Ramsay called from the top of the stairs. He rushed down with Kyra in his arms. 

"What's this?" Damon asked, frowning. "Who is that?"

"His little girlfriend, and Theon's favorite fuckbuddy." Ramsay set her on the floor against the wall. "Tell me, Kyra, did you ever cheat on Joffrey with Theon?" She studied his face and waited to find the right answer. He raised his eyebrows and she nodded yes. Joffrey raged in the ropes restraining him. His face was so red it looked like it could burst. "Yes? Oh, sorry Joff. Kyra, do you love Joffrey? No? Oh my, pity. Would... you wouldn't say you... _hated_ him, would you?"

She furrowed her eyebrows and met Ramsay's sparkling eyes with a resolute nod. He patted her head and smiled. 

"I heard he's a real _monster_ this one. A sadistic psychopathic _bastard_ who gets off on torture." Ramsay stood and walked away from her to the boys and Joff on the floor in between them. He shuddered dramatically, "Can you imagine? Do you think it's true?"

Skinner laughed. Alyn frowned and crossed his arms, "He talks a lot. Didn't fight much."

"No one ever puts up a good fight for poor Alyn." Ramsay explained to Kyra. "He's so frustrated."

"I wanted to fight the Hound, not pay him off," Alyn complained through gritted teeth.

"That's why you have to listen to Damon; he's smarter than you." Ramsay answered with a smile and a warning in his tone. 

"What do you think, Kyra? Is Joff just misunderstood? No? Is he really a twisted little sadistic fuck?" She nodded and Ramsay turned to the boys with his hands in the air. "She says 'yes.' He likes to play, boys. Do you want to play with me, little Joff? I know I'm not a pretty girl, but I think it's time you challenged yourself. Show me what you can do. Skinner, bring out the horror trolley. Let's show him what toys we have to play with."

Skinner laughed to himself and went to a dark corner to pull out the screaming, squealing trolley. He slid open the drawers so all the instruments were visible and ready to be taken. Ramsay strode towards it and grabbed two knives. He ran at Joffrey in a wild, ecstatic, rush brandishing a knife in the air and then fell upon him with four fast slices. Joffrey screamed and lay there shivering until he realized Ramsay had only cut the ropes off of him. He staggered up to his feet, his face full of rage. 

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO- ah!" A knife whooshed by his head and hit the board far behind him with a loud thud which seemed to hang about his ear before fading away. 

"If you keep screeching at me like a dying cat," Ramsay warned in a low, solemn voice, "I'll cut your fucking tongue out. Come over her and pick out a toy for yourself, or two. I pick first, because they're my playthings. Now I have a knife in my hand and one in the wall. What do you pick?" Joffrey looked at Ramsay, then the trolley, then the boys. He took a step towards the trolley, screwing his red face up in a tight little sneer. "Hurry up!" Ramsay barked at him. The boys laughed when he jumped back. "Damon's waiting for his turn. He wants to see you dance."

"You're all going to pay! You'll all wish you'd never been born!" Joffrey screamed in his high-pitched cracking voice. He clenched his fists and jaw and shook with rage. 

"SHOW ME!" Ramsay bellowed, filling the dark basement, "Stop talking and fucking do something! I'm giving you a chance! Get a fucking weapon and show me what your sick cunt mind can come up with."

"If you don't let me out of here _right now_ -" Joffrey stopped when he was shoved by his shoulder and stumbled back. Ramsay laughed several feet away. Joffrey's face suddenly stretched out in shock and pain. "You bastard!" He looked to his shoulder and saw the cold blade sticking out. 

"Shut the fuck up and fight or shut the fuck up and die. I'm going to get my knife from the wall, then I'm coming to get my other knife to cut your tongue out. Make your last words amusing. Ready?" 

Ramsay strode to towards the knife sticking out of the wall. Joffrey touched his hand to his shoulder, then stared at the blood his fingers in disbelief. His eyes darted to the trolley, and he hurried over to it at last.


	38. Every Hell I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I guess no one ever told you," Ramsay said with an icy tone, pulling the knife out of the board, "or maybe you were too stuck up your own tight ass to listen, but 'bastard' is not a word anyone fucking calls me."

Ramsay spun around to see Joff riffling through his playthings with clumsy hands. "Thanks for pissing me off just a little more, you stupid, inbred, useless, spoiled little flaccid prick. I thought you'd be more fun, but I can see you'll be a disappointment. Ha ha, don't look sad, Damon. Unlike poor Alyn, I don't need a good fight. I just need to fucking tear someone apart." The smile on his face was eclipsed by stunning darkness and he whispered through hungry, clenched teeth, " _I need this._ "

He ran towards Joffrey who grabbed a butcher knife and handgun from the trolley, ran and slid on his knees to Kyra. He put the gun to her head. She squeezed her eyes shut and took quick, shallow breaths. "HOLD IT, BASTARD!" Ramsay stopped himself, and threw his hands out to stop the boys from moving. "Take one more fucking step and I'll blow this bitch's head off."

"Alright, alright. What's the plan, Joffrey?" Ramsay asked. He looked hungry. His eyes were dancing. "Tell me what you want. But, please, don't say you want to leave."

"I don't want to leave, you dumb fucking _bastard_!" He sneered with an acidic frown. "I want you to use," he put down the butcher knife and pulled the throwing knife out of his shoulder, keeping the gun against Kyra's head. He then slid the bloody knife over to Ramsay, "THAT knife on HIM!" He pointed to Damon, his finger shaking. His white and blue striped Lacoste polo shirt was colored bright red, then crimson under his shoulder. He grabbed the butcher knife off the floor and slung his free arm around Kyra's shoulder.

"Oh, alright, you're the boss. Just take it easy. What do you want me to do, Joffrey? Tell me everything." Ramsay's hands trembled and his breath quickened. Though he was right under the bitter lemon-lime fluorescent light, his pupils were dilated.

"That's right, you stupid bitch," Joff laughed and sat more comfortably beside Kyra. "You're going to kill your fucking dog for me. I want you cut out _his_ fucking tongue first, since you like that so idea much." Joff snorted at Ramsay's surprise and giggled. Dumb muscle, despised pissant, the bastard was utterly powerless like all the rest of the pigs fit for slaughter. _Suffer! Suffer! Make your dumb dog suffer!_

"Then what?" Ramsay asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Then," Joffrey snapped, giggling, "I want you to slice him all the way across his stomach, spilling his guts while he watches. And then, you stupid, pathetic, _bastard_ , since you love your dog so much, I'm going to make you shove that knife up his ass. If I'm happy enough with how he screams, I might let you slit his throat."

"Oh, baby, that's all I needed to hear," Ramsay laughed. His boys laughed behind him. Joffrey's eyes darted all around looking at them. "Sounds like a great fucking plan, what do you think, guys?"

"I love it," Damon moaned. 

"Come here and show me how, honey. I need your help," Ramsay said with the poisoned sweetness of antifreeze. He walked towards Joffrey who panicked and pulled the trigger, but the trigger caught and the gun wouldn't fire. Ramsay pulled him off of Kyra before he could find the safety. He grabbed the gun in a flash and slammed it across Joffrey's face. 

Damon rushed to Kyra's side, then stood in front of her. "You fucking coward," he yelled down at Joffrey struggling against the smooth cement to get on his feet. 

Ramsay looked at the gun and raised an eyebrow. "Terrible choice. How were you going to release the safety with that knife in your hand?" He looked over his shoulder at Kyra and muttered, "Can you believe he tried to pull the trigger? There wasn't even a round in the chamber." Ramsay tossed the gun to Alyn, who rolled his eyes and put it in his pocket. Joffrey stood on the outer rim of the fluorescent halo, gripping the butcher knife, while Ramsay circled him. His head jerked around to follow Ramsay in frantic movements. His wounded shoulder started to sag. His shirt was nearly black under his wound. "So, start with the tongue then?"

He leapt upon Joffrey who pierced the basement with a wild scream. Joffrey swung the knife at Ramsay's head, but Ramsay caught his wrist and pinned it on the floor. He laughed as Joffrey struggled and squealed under him. He sliced deep into Joffrey's palm, next to his thumb. Joffrey howled like a boiling demon. "Drop it. Drop it!" Joffrey released the knife. "Good." He turned to look over his shoulder. "Damon come hold him down so you can watch."

Damon cleared his throat, "That's ok. I don't want her to have to see."

"How very fucking charming of you. Skinner, you want to hold him down? Alyn, you want to open his stomach?"

"Finally!" Alyn stomped over. "Don't hold him for me though, and give him the knife back."

"You got it, buddy," Ramsay turned to Joff's wide eyes flying around in a mad frenzy. Skinner grabbed his wrists and watched his face, licking his lips. "Now," Ramsay said, lowering his face until it was just an inch from Joff's, " _open your mouth_."


	39. I Will Make You Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyra watched the boys gather around Joffrey, Ramsay crouching over him, grabbing his nose, but her view was obscured by Damon's legs.

Damon turned to her and stooped down to whisper, "Do you want me to turn you around? So you don't have to see?" She considered it for a moment, but shook her head. He knelt in front of her. "Was he terrible to you?" She nodded with tears in her eyes, but a fierce strength burned within them. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't let them hurt you. Ramsay really only wants-" a terrible, crackling, wail filled the basement before turning into thick gurgling. Damon glanced behind him and then back to Kyra. "Do you want me to get you out of here?"

"Damon," Ramsay called with a weight hanging on the word, "come talk to me while Skinner and Alyn have their fun."

"Just stay here, don't move," Damon whispered. He seemed sad standing to leave her. She felt nauseous with fear. He followed Ramsay upstairs. The sound of the door shutting was worse to her then all Joffrey's wordless screaming. Skinner was laughing as Joffrey stumbled about on his knees swiping desperately at Alyn with the butcher knife. His chin was covered in blood, spilling and bubbling onto his shirt. He was making frenzied gurgling noises she would never get out of her head. Alyn smiled at last, and sliced his white stomach open through his bloodstained shirt with one quick movement. His intestines did not fall out, as Joff had imagined, so Alyn tipped him over by pushing his forehead back, and brandished the knife high in the air again.

Joff landed on the cement with a soft thud. He squirmed on his back like an insect. Dropping the knife, he tried uselessly to put the blood and flesh blood back in his stomach. Alyn Knelt over him and slashed deeper and harder into this intestines. The sight was so shocking and surreal, it was somehow easy enough to deal with, but the _noise_ was terrible. Spitting, sputtering, gurgling screams; his suffering could not be unheard. Yet, worst of all for Kyra, is how like himself Joffrey finally seemed. A disgusting, pitiful, crazed demon child so full of useless fury he was barely a sentient being.  How sad that the best thing he could do with his life was to submit to it's ending.

Ramsay and Damon came back down. She felt a little better when Damon hurried back to her side again, even though Ramsay followed him and knelt before her. "I went through your texts on Theon's phone," Ramsay said slowly, with glittering eyes. "I can see you've been a good friend to him. You've probably been the only one keeping him alive while we were apart. I've heard about what Joffrey likes to do to women, with his hired muscles to help him. I thought you might feel better if you could stab him yourself, instead of just watching us do it. What do you think?"

In the abstract, in a hypothetical someone might have asked her driving in a car or in the middle of the night watching a movie on a couch, her answer would have clearly been, 'no.' She would have said that she was morally above such a crime, despite how she hated him. Yet, there was so much anger in her, so much she needed to take back from him. How easily she had slid into this strange new reality. She almost wondered if she'd always been waiting for it. To be a part of sending this despicable leech to eternal silence, to make sure he never hurt anyone else, to show him, to know that he knew how weak and despised he was; it was overwhelming. She nodded yes and Ramsay's face lit with joy.

"Excellent! You know that old saying, 'If you're going to let a witness to your murder live, you'd better make them an accomplice to it.' No? You don't know it? Family saying, maybe." He leaned in close and breathed in her scent, running his nose just an inch her neck, dipping down towards her shoulder. He whispered, "I knew I saw a hunter in you."

"No!" Damon stepped in between she and Ramsay. "She may think she wants to, or maybe she's just scared, but she'll regret it for the rest of her life. Most people, _normal people_ , can't live with something like that, Ramsay."

"It's her decision, but It will make me feel more secure in her future cooperation and silence if she does this for me." Ramsay replied calmly. He stood to face Damon.

" _Don't do this_ " Damon asked through a heavy frown. The terrible noises Joffrey was making and what sounded like wet slapping continued behind them.

"I think Damon wants to be your white knight, Kyra. Is that what _you_ want?" Ramsay smiled dryly, his eyes burning into Damon, even as he was addressing her. "Take the tape off of my guest." Damon inhaled deeply, as though he were about to make an impassioned argument. He just paused for a moment, sighed, and knelt down to follow Ramsay's orders. He tried to take the tape off slowly, but it still stung as it was peeled off. It smelled even worse than it hurt, and tasted foul on her cracked lips.

"Water? Please?" She gasped through a parched mouth and throat. 

"I'll get it!" Damon rushed upstairs, forcing himself not to run. 

Ramsay rolled his eyes. He turned with a smile and offered his hand to Kyra. She looked up at him, hesitating, but finally took the hand he offered, and was pulled up to stand beside him. "Do you want me to help you?" He asked leaning in close and then slipping around behind her. He wound an arm around her waist and held out the knife for her to take. She took it, though it felt like she was using someone else's hand to do so. His arm then slid up next to her, and he held her hand. "This knife is really good for stabbing, instead of slicing. You want to use the tip and drive it in like a stake." He raised her hand, tightened her grip on the handle, and brought it swiftly down. 

"HERE'S THE WATER!" Damon roared, not making a great show of being casual. He handed Kyra a bottle of water as Ramsay stepped back, his cheshire smile shining in the dim light. Damon glared at Ramsay. He softened his expression and turned to Kyra. "You don't have to do this. You won't ever be able to take it back." He watched Ramsay join Skinner. They both laughed watching Alyn hack into Joff's shuddering, but largely still and quiet body. Damon looked at Kyra with pleading eyes and lowered his voice. " _Don't get close to him. Don't let him love you._ " The gravity of his sadness pulled her attention in to him, shutting out all the horror and fury around them. For such an enormous, lumbering man he had a surprisingly boyish face. There was some kind of innocent earnestness in Damon's expression which was horribly irreconcilable with Ramsay, his laughing friends, and his kill room basement.

She drank until the bottle was nearly empty then tried to catch her breath. "I understand. This is something I have to do. I'll always regret it if I don't. I don't know if someone like you could understand." With that he realized she was smart enough to keep her guard up, and Ramsay wasn't the only one she was weary of. She saw the hurt in his face, and touched his shoulder before leaving him for Ramsay. "I'm ready."

Ramsay looked up and grinned broadly. "Good! Very good!"


	40. Our Pleasures Are a Motley Few

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyra approached the convulsing body, lily white in a pool of deep burgundy.

His blue eyes had sunk into oblivion, then suddenly snapped up to look at her. She gasped and gripped the knife's handle harder. He moved his shoulder, though it could have been the spasm of his failing body. His look of hatred was clear enough. She heard the click of the trigger and fell upon him screaming. She had both hands on the knife's handle which she found was now sitting on top of his chest. For a fleeting instant, she almost thought the blade must had fallen off somewhere. Warm blood ran past the bottoms of her palms. She pulled the knife out, not thinking. The wound she made white and pink inside, then the blood came rushing up. She fell on her ass, gasping, and crawled backwards away from the terrible sight.

"Perfect." Ramsay was looking at the photo he'd just taken on his phone. "Look, Damon, look! Now we don't have to hurt a hair or her pretty head." He shoved the screen up to Damon's face. Damon looked away. _You didn't have to bring her here at all_ , Damon wished he could say. Ramsay turned to Kyra, shaking on the cement floor with a blank expression. "Good job. Now give Daddy the knife, Kyra." She handed it over mechanically, with the same empty eyes. She didn't seem to be looking at or thinking of anything. "How does it feel?" He asked softly, then leaned in to kiss her but was pulled back.

"What are you doing?!" Damon asked.

Skinner inhaled deeply and shuddered, releasing his breath. "It's coming, Ramsay, he's bleeding out." Skinner was older than the others, in his mid-twenties but he could be mistaken as an even older due to his grizzled features. He had the kind of hard, lean, muscles that seemed carved into his body from a lifetime of daily struggling; unlike the muscles which seemed to grow effortlessly on top of Damon's large frame. Even Skinner's face seemed to have been chiseled by unforgiving elements into something harder than it should've been. Though he laughed and smiled a lot, his face always remained terribly cold.

He looked to Ramsay often, they all did. His boys seemed to wait on his words, to ride on his moods, and quietly fight to win his approval. Seeing Ramsay turn to the dying child with Raised eyebrows and large dark pupils, Skinner grinned and ripped Joffrey's pants off. "He had one last wish," Skinner laughed, looking up at Ramsay as he approached, bloody knife in hand.

Ramsay shot Damon a sharp look of disapproval, which seemed to land hard on the lumbering boy's chest, then ran his hand over Skinner's buzzed hair. Kyra realized what was going to happen, and covered her eyes at last, just before she had to see it. Skinner and Alyn cried out as if their team had just scored a winning goal and started laughing. She heard wet slapping noises, a kind of sucking sound in between hits. She focused on leaving here and going back to her life. This was a nightmare, or at least an aberration. It would be over soon. A terrible smell overcame the bitter copper scent hanging in the air.

"Ooooo!!!" The boys called out at once and started laughing.

"Holy shit, what did he eat?" Skinner yelled out, laughing loudly. "That's the worst shit I've ever smelled from a fucking corpse!"

Kyra heard herself cry out, but she didn't feel very upset. Something felt very right about his terrible end, in fact. Her lack of compassion, her peace with his suffering is what scared her more than anything. She looked up at Damon and asked with a surprisingly steady voice, "Can I go home now?"

"No!" Ramsay yelled. "We need to talk first. Let me get cleaned up. Do you need to shower? How are your clothes?" He was on top of her suddenly, but kept looking at Damon's face with a cruel smile.

"I don't think I need to shower. I just have blood on my jacket. Here, you can have it. I'll just say I lost it." She took it off and handed it to Ramsay who took it and leaned into Damon.

"I like her, Damon. Don't you? Do you want to keep her?"

"Yeah, I do," Damon's eyes threw uncomfortable apologies at Kyra before racing back to Ramsay. His arms were crossed and he kept shifting his weight. "Can I? Will you let her be? I gave you Joffrey. I don't want anything else." Damon tried to ask nicely, but his jaw was set, his muscles were tensed and the anger he fought to control seeped through his words.

"You don't want money? You don't want molly? Or speed? Just her?" Ramsay asked sweetly and slung his arm around Damon's back.

"That's all I want. You don't have to pay me back, it was a gift."

"Hmm, I dunno. That's not an exceptionally nice way to ask," Ramsay looked to Kyra and shook his head, as if she must agree. He laughed at Damon's anger.

" _Why are you being such an asshole?_ What the fuck did I do?" Damon whispered leaning down on Ramsay.

"I'm just not sure how much you really care, Damon." Ramsay lifted and tilted his head with a wide smile and shining eyes. He pulled Damon a little closer. "It seems like you're more worried about her feelings than mine, and now you care more about impressing her than being nice to me. After everything I've done for you? For your mother? Your little sister-"

"Ok, I'm sorry," Damon's shoulders fell as if a weight had fallen upon them. His anger was deflated. He swallowed his wounded pride. "Please, Ramsay? Please, leave her alone."

Ramsay shrugged. "Sure, buddy. You don't have to cry about it." He and Skinner started laughing and Damon growled. "Come on, Damon," Ramsay headed towards the stairs waving Damon to come follow with his index finger. "We'll get cleaned up and take her home while Skinner and Alyn clean this mess.

"I can't leave her here! Can't she come upstairs... please?"

"Yeah. Get her a fucking Pepsi too," Ramsay laughed. Skinner cackled like a hyena. Damon hated all his so called 'friends' and the life he'd fallen into at that moment. Ramsay waved him up impatiently from the stairs, then glancing at Kyra waved her along as well. Damon felt relieved and went to help her stand but she was already walking towards the stairs.

Coming up through the basement door into the kitchen, with it's warm, full light, was almost like being born again for her. Ramsay pulled out a chair for her and told a woman doing dishes in a blue uniform to get her a drink and snack. Kyra washed her hands once she was alone in the kitchen. She kept looking for blood everywhere, but couldn't find any. She watched the water flowing over her skin; how it bubbled and caught the light, how it distorted her flesh, how smooth and cool it felt on her living skin. Suddenly, she vomited in the sink. She watched, hypnotized, as the water carried the filth away. She smiled when it was gone, and the sinks smooth metal surface was clean again. She noticed the woman was standing near the end out the counter, looking at her, waiting for something.

"Sorry," Kyra muttered. She sat down and drank the Pepsi poured for her. _"How different everything so old and familiar will be for you"_ he had told her. He was right. She was tasting this sweet drink, she was feeling the carbonation dance on her tongue, wake up her gums, she was hearing the ice clink against the glass, and feeling the condensation on it's smooth surface. She was, not Joffrey. That terrible little prick would never feel or think anything again. He'd never hurt another woman and laugh at their pain, so she laughed at his pain as a farewell to his awful memory.

Ramsay drove her home, but Damon came along, riding in the backseat. Ramsay was full of joyous energy. He didn't stop talking or moving. He asked her a lot about herself and then asked even more questions about Theon. She glanced back at Damon every once in awhile. He kept looking out the window with his arms crossed.

Ramsay noticed when they were about ten minutes from the park where she'd left her car. "Damon," he called glancing back. Damon sighed with exasperation. "Damon, Damon, why are you grumpy, Damon? Huh? Huh" Ramsay reached back to push his knee. "Huh? Huh? Huh? What's a matter? What's a matter with Damon?"

"Nothing!" he snapped.

"Damon. Damon. DAMON!"

"WHAT?!"

"What do you need to tell your prize?"

"Oh," Damon moved over to the middle of the back seat and leaned in between the front seats to bring his face to hers. "You know you can't tell anyone about this?"

"Obviously," she said calmly. Ramsay threw up his hand and shrugged in agreement with her assessment.

"Well," Damon cleared his throat, "the other thing is, you can't talk to Theon anymore. If he calls you, you call Ramsay. If he approaches you or talks to you, or passes you a note- anything like that- tell Ramsay right away. Call him, and if you can't call him, call me. Oh," he shifted around then handed her something. "Here's your phone. He put our numbers in it."

"How...? I understand, I swear."

"If you don't call me right away, or call Damon if you can't reach me, I'll take back my promise to him." He looked away from the road to look deep into her eyes, "I'll come get you. Wherever you are, I'll find you. I'll keep you, and if you bore me, I'll take you down to the basement and-"

"RAMSAY! That's enough!" Damon yelled throwing his hand up.

Ramsay slammed on the brakes and Damon launched forward, hitting chairs with his shoulders then falling clumsily between them. "What, honey?"

Damon pulled himself up moaning. "Aw, fuck, man. She knows, she knows! Promise him! Tell him you won't forget. Fuck!"

"I swear! I swear," she looked into his ice cold eyes and truly promised with every bit of her being. "I promise I will call you as soon as he talks to me. I won't forget."

Ramsay's face lit with a friendly smile. "Good."

"What are... you won't hurt him... will you?"

"No, of course not." Ramsay looked up and away and smiled to himself. "Look, I did that to Joffrey because he threatened Theon's life. I would never do something like... well, you know, unless I felt I really had to. That's the truth. I was protecting what I care about most. I'm getting him out of that fucking Stark house; he's not safe there either." He glanced over at her, then back to the road as he pulled into the park. "Don't worry about Theon. He'll be safe with me." Then, under his breath he barely whispered to her, " _He'll be loved_."

She reached over and hugged him before she could think about what he was doing. He raised an eyebrow and when she pulled back he patted her head. Damon shifted and huffed in the back. She tried not to smile when Ramsay laughed, looking at the rearview mirror.

When they parked next to her car, Damon got out and opened her door. After she climbed out, Damon leaned in and told Ramsay to 'just wait inside' before slamming the door. He took a deep breath and turned his sad, boyish face to look down at her. "You ok?" She nodded. "Look, I'm sorry about everything. If you ever need anything, you can call me. If you never want to see me again, that's ok too. We won't bother you, Ramsay meant that... and the part about Theon... he meant that too. If you hate me, or whatever, and you're in a lot of trouble, you can call him. Just for fuck's sake, you have to be careful. It's making a deal with the fucking devil every time he does you a fucking favor. He learned how to, like," he tried to motion with his hands how the Bolton's tighten their grip slowly around the people they like, until they're nearly choking you. He dropped his hands, feeling it was all useless. She was the kind of person who made up her own mind. He turned to leave her.

"Maybe I could call you to get a coffee?"

He stopped, incredulous of what he heard. His face lit up, as though she'd flipped a switch. "Are you fucking serious?! After that? I'm not like him, really! We could meet somewhere very public, very, like, safe, you know? Very slow-" she hugged him and got on her toes to kiss his chin.

"I know you're a good person in a very bad situation." He felt crushed by her understanding. "I know you wanted to protect me since you saw me." She got in her car, taking her wonderful smell and soft, curvy body with her. She rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. "Taking things very slow and safe sounds good." She pulled away and he grinned. He leaned against the car with a racing heart, and swimming head.

Ramsay lowered the window he was leaning on and he stood back up. "Come on, fuckface! Let's go!"

Damon got in the passenger's seat, but wished he could crawl in the back. Ramsay tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and set his jaw. He headed towards the park's exit but pulled over into a little empty gravel lot and parked. He turned sharply to Damon. "What?!" Damon threw his hands up.

"'Just wait in the car?' Is that how you fucking talk to me?"

Damon shrugged.

"Yeah?" He reached over and released the latch under Damon's seat, which fell back immediately. "You have a good time? You make a new little friend?" He climbed on top of Damon. "I have a bag of zip ties in the back. Think I could bind your wrist behind the seat?"

"No!" Damon barked. "Get off of me!"

"You know one day I'm going to get you some good fucking X, and that night I'll follow you to whatever shit party you take it to. I'll lead you to my car with some bullshit promises, and fuck you in the backseat. I might take you home and fuck you all night. What I keep wondering though, is what are you going to do when you like it? Would you get scared and try to leave me? You wouldn't be that stupid would you? You know what happens when people run away from me? You remember don't you? How she begged and wished she could take it all back, but I get so fucking angry sometimes, Damon, when people try to leave me."

Damon shuddered under Ramsay and felt a tear in the corner of his eye.

"I know you, brave boy. You don't worry about yourself, you have your mom, and your little sister to worry about."

"I'm s-s-sorry." Damon stuttered in a hoarse whisper.

"What? For being so rude to me? Good." Ramsay leaned in so close, Damon squeezed his eyes shut. Ramsay kissed his forehead. "Jesus Christ, Damon, don't piss yourself. It was just a joke!" Ramsay laughed, climbing off of him and back into the driver's seat. He slapped Damon's face twice. "Fuck! You should see the look on your face! I'm fucking with you." Damon looked over at him, miserably, and Ramsay winked.

He laughed as he tore out of the park. "I feel much better. You have to help me get Greyjoy. I really fucking need someone to ... relieve me of all this..." he looked at Damon with an expression that could almost be mistaken for an apology.

Damon was ready for the poor little shit to take this fucking nightmare off his shoulders already; the sooner the better.


	41. Never Agreed to Be Your Holy One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon was silent the rest for the rest of the ride to the Bolton Estate.

When they arrived Ramsay tried to coax Damon inside, but he curtly refused and drove away as quickly as he could. Ramsay paced up and down the long winding driveway. He paid Skinner and Alyn for their work, and they drove away to dispose of the body. Ramsay watched the red lights until the treeline swallowed them. He walked through the woods until he felt like ripping his own skin apart, just because there was no one else to take his anger.

He ended up pouring himself some whiskey and calling his Reek, though it was clearly Theon who answered. Clangy, echoing guitars, and heavy bassline played in the background while a baritone singer crooned his sad poetry.

"Ramsay, before you say anything, I have to tell-"

"I think I have to murder Damon."

"-you... what?" Theon laughed in spite of himself. 

"Why are you laughing at me? I'm serious." Ramsay smirked. He sat on the edge of his patio and stabbed the clay soil with a twig he'd found.

"No you won't. He's your friend."

"Yeah, right."

"What did he do to hurt your feelings?" Theon's voice softened as he asked.

"Ha! Hurt my- shut the fuck up. He pissed me off! He's being a total dick; he spit in my face and said he didn't give a shit about everything I've done for him. He's thinks I was just a stupid, weak, fucking idiot for helping him in the first place!"

"I know that's how you feel. I know that makes you angry, I would make me angry too. What actually happened though?"

"THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED!"

"He literally spit in your face?"

"Well... no," Ramsay laughed a little and laid down to see the stars. "But he treated me like shit to impress this girl he likes. Oh god! He was so pathetic! She asked for water and he tripped over his damn feet to run and get it for her. He didn't even _look_ at me!"

Theon snorted and giggled. "Why would he look at you, though?"

"It's my goddamned house, my glass, my ice, my water, and he's _my friend_! He should have at least looked at _me_ to see if how the fuck I felt about it!"

"About giving her a glass of water?"

"It was a bottle actually..."

"Fuck, in that case, kill him. It's like he gave one of your cars away." Theon laughed but then shook his head, as if to snap himself out of a trance. "I shouldn't even be talking to you..."

"Well, if you hang up on me I'm going to murder Damon. Sooo, just think about if you want to live with that or not."

"Yeah?" Ramsay could hear Theon smiling and his muscles eased their tense, burning grip. "Alright, then. Hey, you know, want he wants from this girl, it's not anything you could, or would want to give him. She's not really competition for you, you know?"

"But, why can't I be enough?" Ramsay asked the night sky in a broken voice.

"Ramsay, a romantic partner is something most people have an innate desire for. No friendship can fill that void. I know you're a-angry... at the thought that he might leave you, but I really don't think that's what's happening." Ramsay put his forearm over his eyes. Theon's gentle voice continued to cool his anger. "Damon loves his mother in different way than he loves you, right? Does he have a dog or cat? He loves it if he does, but that subtracts nothing from his relationship with you. He might love his brother or sister; you see what I'm saying? He can love other people without any of them replacing you. There's only one you, I promise. No one could... look, Ramsay, even if he did leave you -and I know he isn't- you would still be ok."

"No one could what?" Ramsay sat up and chewed on his lip.

"Nothing, nothing. Look, I need to tell you-"

"No. Tell me that first. Just say it."

Theon sighed, cleared his throat and spoke with devastation. " _No one could replace you._ "

Ramsay's eyes grew large and round. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths. Theon resumed his calm, compassionate tone and went on about some bullshit with Damon, but none of that really mattered. "I'm coming to get you," Ramsay declared, nearly whispering. 

"No! That's what I was trying to tell you! Something's going on over here. Robb was talking to your father earlier, and then Jamie Lannister came over. Robb left with him. Now there's security people walking around the property. I don't know what's happening, no one will talk to me."

"Father was trying to make a deal with Robb to get you out of there. I guess it didn't go well, and now he's guarding you. I'll find out more later, but it's alright. Baratheon had a stroke, and his loving father-in-law has kind of taken over. The point, as far as you're concerned, is Tywin Lannister is a sensible man with no ties to Nedd's memory, who can easily see Father's better able to advance his interests than ten Robb Starks. Apparently Robb is kind of floundering in paranoia. He seems bent on avenging his father at any cost. If Father can't get you out through his means soon enough, I'll just take you from school one day. We'll get on the highway and drive whichever way we want to, just like we talked about."

"But-"

"I don't care if you changed your mind. You'll change it back. I'll help you."

"I mean, look, that was before you gave me a concussion because some crazy prick started a fight with me." Theon lowered his voice, "That was before you tried to fucking kidnap me, before I found out-"

"Oh, like you didn't know- wait... are you smoking?!"

"Uh..."

"Are you motherfucking serious?!" Ramsay threw his hand up, then gripped his head with incredulous dismay. "Theon! That's it! I'm done! I'm going to fucking kill you!" The music in the background cut off at once. "Theon?" Ramsay looked at his phone. 

CALL ENDED 12:43 AM

"Oh," Ramsay said, almost smacking his own forehead. "Heh, he thought... well, I guess that's somewhat understandable." He laid on the porch to view the stars above again. He found no answers among them, and eventually went inside.


	42. An Elaborate Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon woke up the next morning and dragged his sore, exhausted body downstairs to help with breakfast only to find the kids eating it already.

A cook he didn't recognize asked if he was Theon.

"Yeah. Did I oversleep or..."

"Mr. Stark said you're on bed rest. If you need anything, please call the house phone from your cell." He was a somewhat short and curvy man with a pleasant enough face. 

"Oh. I don't have to do anything? Are you sure?" Theon's stomach sank.

"Mr. Greyjoy," one of the new men in a black polo shirt and black pants called to him from the living room and approached. His square jaw, ripped arms, cleancut hair, controlled, business-like demeanor, and sunglasses at 6:30 am, inside the house, told Theon all he needed to know about the man. "Mr. Stark is concerned about your concussion. He made a doctor's appointment for you tomorrow. Until then, he asked that you stay in bed. I'll be right down the hall if you need anything at all."

"Oh. That's a relief, actually." Theon smiled his charming smile as best he could with his swollen face. "I don't feel very good. Are, you're sure he said it's ok for me to just lay around? I don't have to go to school either?"

"No, no. He was quite clear."

"Oh, cool. Um..." Theon turned to the cook. They were both smiling at him, these awful strangers. "Could I take some toast and coffee to my room?"

"Sure! I'll bring it up! Anything else?" The cook asked cheerfully.

"No, wow," Theon looked at both of them and smiled. "I should get beat up more often, huh?" He laughed and headed for the stairs, with slow uneasy steps. He looked up the stairs and almost sank. 

"Theon!" Bran called out from the couch. He stood, but Sansa grabbed his arm.

"Here, I'll help you." Mr. Friendly Sunglasses helped Theon back to his room. Theon let him lead, and so discovered Mr. Friendly already knew where his room was. 

"Thanks, I'm sorry, man. I've been so dizzy since I was knocked out. You ever had a concussion?"

"Oh yeah, in the Marines, that was years ago. The dizziness can last for days. You have that ringing in your ear?"

"Yeah, it's so high pitched; like I just came out of a concert." Theon lied, getting back in his futon.

"Huh, yup, I still hear it. Hope yours goes away. I'll be down the hall." Mr. Friendly Sunglasses shut his bedroom door. Theon inhaled sharply and deeply. He tried to calm take slow, slow breaths; in through his nose and out through his mouth. He thought of Ramsay holding him after he woke up from one of his nightmares.

_"They're going to kill me! They're going to kill me! I didn't save anyone! I didn't remember! I didn't hide-"_

_"Theon, it's Ramsay. You're safe. No one is coming for you, I promise. No one gets to hurt you but me, remember?" Ramsay smiled. He pulled Theon close, held and pet him. "You're here with me. You're safe with me. When you stop shaking I'll put the Simpsons on, ok?"_

_"I'm trying." Theon burst into tears._

_"Shh. I'll hold you until you can. I'm not mad because you're scared; I'm not a fucking Greyjoy. I'm your best friend, right?" Theon nodded into his chest. "I don't like you pretending to be a mean pirate. I just want you. I'm going to take care of my pet forever." Theon shoved himself against Ramsay and wrapped his arms tightly around his ribs. It was the first time he meant it when he said, "I love you, Ramsay."_

Tears came like a silent river. It was a scene Theon had replayed over and over to calm himself when he felt like this, but now that little boy, that terrible monster who at least loved him, now even Ramsay who he had bled, cried, lied, and come for, wanted him dead. Who the fuck was left?

After he heard the front door slam a few times and the kids voices going down the driveway, Theon texted Jon.

**Could you bring me something to puke in?**

**Yeah.**

Jon came in a minute later empty-handed, pale and red-eyed. He whispered, "I don't know what to do, but I think I figured something out."

Then Theon knew for certain, the day he dreaded since he was taken from his home and family had actually come at last. "It's ok, Jon. It's not your fault, alright? Look, are you leaving soon?"

"Yeah, today and for good. This is bullshit!"

"Ok. Don't worry. After you leave, I'll figure something out. I always do, right? I'm Theon fucking Greyjoy." He smiled his best smile. Tears broke from Jon's eyes as he looked away.

"I can't..." He wiped his tears and new look of bold determination took command of his features. "I'm not leaving a brother behind to die."

Theon swallowed the lump pressing in his throat. "Thanks, Jon. I... look, I got it. You go live your life, it's going to be great. Have your crybaby kids and tell them how amazing Uncle Theon was, ok? Get out of here, Jon." Jon made his miserable face and Theon rolled over, away from him. Jon didn't move. He watched Theon's shoulder rising and falling as his chest heaved. "Come on. Get the fuck out before I ruin your life like the coward I really am, Snow."

Jon sighed and left. The terrible sound of the door shutting felt like a shot to the back of Theon's head. He mindlessly traced circles on his flat pillow. He wondered if Robb would actually do it himself. He had to, so Theon had until he came back from the capital to think of someway out of here. He'd gone over this scenario so many times in his head that he had several plans to go through. He looked out his window. He could handle the fall well enough, but there was a guard standing just feet from where he would land. He went out to smoke, and saw a guard under the balcony. No window in the bathroom, but there was a crawl space that lead to the attic. He could pretend to take a shower. That would only buy him about half an hour, and hour at most to crawl to the attic, from there to the roof, from the roof to the garage... _FUCK!_ , he thought. _My keys!_

He'd have to stop Jon before he left. He thought about texting him, he just had to word it prudently. What if Jon's phone was... what? Hacked or something? Theon gripped his head. It was so hard to think! 

There was a knock at the door. He rolled over, cautiously. _Is this it?_ "Come in."

The door opened and the new chef came in with a plate of food. He looked around a little embarrassed at the small room and found no place to set the food and coffee. He left it on the floor and backed out of the room with an awkward smile. Theon thanked him as he shut the door. He thought the food might taste better, richer, somehow. He thought that it might be a new miraculous experience as his last meal, but it didn't taste like anything. 

He didn't want to die with Robb. He didn't want to die alone. He couldn't decide which was worse, he could only decide not to eat.

Jon came through his bedroom door with a green Army backpack on and his enormous rolling suitcase. "Came to say goodbye, Greyjoy!" He almost shouted. He shut the door behind him and unzipped his suitcase as he spoke. Theon barely understood, but hope was racing, thundering, through his heart. "I know we've had our differences, and shit but... hey. Are you awake?" Jon made a furious face and motioned for Theon to hurry the fuck up. Theon jumped up and quietly crawled in the suitcase with smooth, quick movements. Jon talked through zipping the bag shut. "Theon? Theon? Oh. Bye, buddy. I wish you were awake so I could tell you I'm going to miss you."

Theon heard his door open, and then, cramped in darkness, he miraculously started moving through it. He was lifted and thrown around as Jon descended the stairs. How'd Jon get so fucking strong? Theon smacked his face when Jon let the suitcase fall on the floor, but he didn't move or make a sound. At the door Mr. Friendly as Jon for ID. After a moment, he asked if Jon needed help with his luggage, and Theon was sure he knew.

"You did see that's a military ID, right? I think I got it." Jon muttered. The front door opened. Theon bumped his way in darkness out the door and down the stairs. Theon heard a trunk pop open and he was thrown in, slamming against the sides. The trunk slammed, and then a car door. The wonderful, glorious thing happened; he heard his car starting. The car drove for, what felt like, fifteen minutes before Jon pulled over and parked on what sounded and felt like some kind of dirt road. It occurred to Theon, that maybe this was a cruel and terrible hoax. Maybe Jon was the one to kill him. Maybe this would be his way to secure himself as a true Stark? Jon opened the trunk and unzipped the suitcase. Daylight never seemed so precious. 

"Think you can drive me to the bus station?" Jon asked with his sad face. Theon smiled and laughed and cried. "Okay, I'll drive to the bus station then. You uh... yeah." When Theon climbed out of the trunk Jon said, "Oh shit, you don't have shoes." Theon started laughing again. As they drove away, Theon began to collect himself a little. 

"That... that was amazing, Jon," he said in a low voice, looking out his window at the world which would still have him for awhile longer. Jon just shrugged. "What happened?" Theon looked at the floor, unsure if he really wanted to know.

"Your father... um..."

Theon nodded. "So it finally happened."

"I can't really take you with me right away. I can't, like, have roommates on base. But I can just get an apartment off base. We can put you up in a hotel somewhere until that gets worked out." Jon ran his hand over his buzzed hair. "Actually, I might be able to sponsor you and have you live on-base. I don't know, you are under eighteen, but I don't know how it would work with-"

"You've done more than enough. Just take the bus to the new life you made, please. I mean it. I want you to live that life you deserve for me, ok?"

"What about you?" Jon looked over, his eyebrows arched in a worried expression.

"Don't worry about me! I know _exactly_ where to go! It's better for both of us if I don't tell you. So, I snuck in here. I must have been hiding in the back seat, right? You thought I was sleeping when you came to say goodbye, but you never heard or saw me. Tell Robb you left the keys on the front tire, so he can have someone pick the car up."

"That would only get them looking for you faster. Fuck it. Robb can't kill me. He'll be relieved I helped you, honestly." Jon looked as sure as his words sounded. 

Theon laughed and laughed. He rolled down the window and felt the air rushing past his face. "Fuck it then."

Saying goodbye was hard. They didn't know what to say, so they just hugged and separated. Theon watched Jon walk away. He smiled his lopsided, goofy grin and waved his hand over his head when Jon turned around before going through bus station's entrance. Theon he got in his car, at last, and locked the doors. 

"Now where the fuck am I supposed to go?"


	43. Close My Eyes and the World Drops Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon climbed into the back of the car and tore at the passenger seat's back pocket until it ripped off in his hungry hands.

He remembered how long it took him to cut the damn pocket off, cleanly as he could. Sewing it back on was an even bigger pain in the ass; he had no aptitude for delicate movements. Tearing through the back was much more satisfying, duct taping the hole he carved in the cushion was quick and easy enough.

How many times as he was sweating, alone on a backwoods dirt road, or dizzy from the humid car, listening to the rain in an abandoned parking lot; how many times had he called himself 'paranoid'? 'Disloyal'? 'Distant'? 'Untrusting'?

They were all Stark words which had broken into his head with violence, and hey were all lies. He was only preparing for the inevitable. He had only tried to save the one life he had. So why should he feel like such a traitor now? He erupted in fists flying at the seat, then sank back exhausted.

_Fuck it. Just focus._

He took a deep breath and tore off the duct tape. It was all there; temporary phone, three thousand dollars, cigarettes, a lighter, a bottle of water, fake id in a leather wallet with a bunch of bullshit family photos and store cards. Most importantly, however, was his gun; his first birthday present to himself. He had bought it from Roz's 'friend.' Now his life was his to end, and that made him smile. It seemed so obvious now that he could have given himself a fond farewell and ended his suffering with his middle finger in the air at anytime. _Why didn't I do this before?_

Then he felt the answer crushing his chest. _I don't want to die alone. Some one in this god damn world has to miss me._ Ideas flashed through his head, like someone was racing through channels on the television. It was so hard to think. He needed something stiff to give him dumb courage.

He was already on his way to being drunk when he pulled up to Roz's apartment complex. He couldn't remember the code, so he just buzzed apartment numbers until someone let him in. He stomped and swayed up to her floor and banged on the door. Was she still in school? What time was it? The door opened and darkness seeped out from within.

"Baby Theon?" Roz peeked from behind the door and squinted at him.

"Hey. I have money and rum. Wanna get fucked up?" He asked flatly with his best smile.

"Sure, honey! I haven't seen you in ... how long has it been? SHUT UP, ANDY! Come in, come in, come in!" She slurred and slunk back. After his eyes adjusted he saw there was four other people laying around. Nothing says 'bad decisions are made here' like a dirty mattress on the floor. The flesh-colored skeleton passed out on it was swimming in clothes it seemed they never could have fit into.

"I just need something to make me feel good," he tried explaining. He took a few swigs from his bottle of Captain Morgan, hoping this shithole would start looking better the more drunk he got.

"Ok, I have this fucking awesome speed for you, baby. You're gonna have a great time, I promise."

"What is it?"

"Speed."

"Yeah, but what... fuck it. How much? Hey, you have any good weed?"

"Oh yeah! The Theon special! Coke, weed and rum! Oh shit! I got some coke! Can you believe it? Wait, wait, I'll go dig it out. I'm gonna get you this primo shit and fuck your ass up!" She laughed and wandered to the back of the apartment.

"I want my fucking money!" A boy laying on the couch suddenly sat up and yelled. He looked at Theon for an instant, said, "You don't have shoes," then sank back on the couch.

"SHUT UP, ANDY!" She screeched from the backroom.

Theon sighed and drank from his comforting bottle. A girl with large eyes and long, dried out, bleach-blond hair crawled over to him on the floor. "Wait, wait, wait..." She thought, then her head fell on the carpet. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. He was nowhere near drunk enough for this shit. This wasn't the party he was looking for. "WAIT!" She said, popping back up. She tried to tickle the sole of his foot, then pulled up beside him on the leather love seat. He raised an eyebrow and took another drag. Where the fuck was Roz already? "HEY! Are yooooouuuuuu Theeeeeeeoooonn?" She giggled and rested her head on his shoulder.

"No. Just some lucky asshole who looks like him." He watched the smoke spread through the air and dissolve at the ceiling.

"You are! You are! You are Theon Graybeard!"

He snorted and grinned slyly. "Uh huh."

"Can I see it?" She ran her hand on his chest. He wanted so much to like her touch, but felt sick instead. It was wrong; this was all wrong.

"See what? My gorgeous fucking smile, sweetie? My face is a little sore." He offered a close-mouthed half grin as a conciliatory prize.

"I just wanna see it. I heard allllll about it," she whispered. She slid her hand under his shirt.

In his head he was fighting off Ramsay's words, but couldn't force away the image of Ramsay above him, inside him- "Stop." He tensed up and kept fighting in _his_ mind over what he could do with _his_ body in _his_ last hours of _his_ life.

"Come on, let's seeeeee!"

"Holy shit, I can't remember where the coke is, it was glass... god damn Robbie probably took it! But, I know you always wanted to try this," Roz said. She somehow seemed to be sloshing through the dry carpet as she came nearer, waving a tiny baggy with a dark brown, wet substance inside. It already tasted so sweet in his blood. "Tonight's the night, right?" She said, looking sloppy and seductive.

"Fuck yes, it is," he answered with a dead voice. He caught the tourniquet she threw him and considered it as held it with one hand. What the fuck did he have to lose? This could be a great way to die. Andy shouted about his money again. Roz shouted back that she couldn't find the lighter she needed. The bleach-blonde girl lifted the side of his shirt and traced the X on his ribs.

"There is it! It's soooooo big!" She started laughing in slow motion hysterics while he jumped up, away from her.

He slapped the girl hard across her face before he could stop himself. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" He grabbed his bottle and stumbled back, away from her.

"Ouch, Theo! It's just a joke! Your friend said you'd like it," she pouted.

"Hey, hey! Hey, baby Theon, hey!" Roz came stumbling out of the kitchen with a fat lighter. "It's alright! Just sit down and I'll make it all better!" She turned to the girl and pointed ferociously. "FUCK OFF, DESIREE!"

"Whatever," The bleach-blond girl grumbled and sank to the floor. Light broke into the room and both girls shielded their eyes. The door slammed and Theon was gone; he didn't leave one fucking dollar behind or give Roz one fucking orgasm. She'd just have to try this shit herself. What a waste.

 

By the time Theon arrived at the Bolton Estate, he was drunk enough to feel sure this was a great idea. He got himself two six packs of Guinness and only had one bottle left. He drank most of it in the park, alone. He thought about what he'd say, and what he'd do. He took himself through it several times, tried different scenarios and the more empty bottles there were clanking in his car, the better his plan became. He pulled up to the sidewalk, right in front of the gate.

He'd forgotten about the gate.

"Well, just fuck!" He yelled to himself. "How I am supposed to know the code... the fucking code... I don't know it! I don't ... you STUPID HOUSE!" He felt around for his temporary phone... did he leave it? Didn't Ramsay steal it? He suddenly remembered he didn't know Ramsay's number anyway. "WELL, GOD DAMN IT! I'm here for you to fucking kill, asshole!" He yelled inside his car. "Phone... I don't even have a shoe to foot in." He threw his hands up. He lit a cigarette. "Yeah, I'm smoking, I got this gun, lets... I cannot climb that fence," he thought aloud. He climbed out of his car instead. "I GOT IT! Hot fucking damn!" He grabbed an empty bottle from the car then whispered, "I'll ring the doorbell!"

On the very first try, the bottle smashed to pretty flying pieces on the door. "HA! And I'm SHITFACED! Your dumbass can't do that, _RAMSAY_! Fuck you! Come on!"

Nothing.

"Alright. Try, try, again. Here I go, wait, wait. House, hold on. Ok, door, get ready!" Another short lived glass firework burst on the red door. "GOD DAMN IT I AM GOOD! I should have been somebody. I coulda, I coulda been like SO many fucking things." A light turned on by the door. "HEY!" He waved his arms above his head.

Nothing.

He got his gun, loaded the chamber, and released the safety. "I'm gonna do it if you don't, asshole!" He screamed. "Yeah, yeah, that is sooooooo you, you fucking prick. When YOU wanna kill me, whoah, like, yeah everyone, everybody let's kill Theon, but if I want to die... what? You're sleeping or some shit? Fuck. Fuck you." He cocked the gun and took a long drag. "Fine. Take allllll the skin you want, Monster." He drank the last of his rum and threw the empty bottle at the door. He put the gun under his chin.

Then the door opened. He put the gun in his pocket, forgetting about the safety. "HEY!" He yelled and swung his hands high over his head. The door shut and closed out the light within the house. Theon squinted, trying to see if anyone was there in the dark. Suddenly, Ramsay's grinning face burst into the streetlight just a few steps away. The shadows of the iron bars swept over the landscape of his face as he moved closer with the swaying shoulders of a caged tiger.

"Hello, puppy. Are you lost? Did you really come find me?" He strangled the iron bars with his serpentine fingers and rolled his forehead against them. His dead gray eyes never looked more white.

"Yeah, yeah? Guess WHAT? Fuck you! That's what!" Ramsay didn't come with knives in his hands. Didn't matter, Theon didn't want to die that way when a bullet in his brain was the instant death he'd always prepared for. Ramsay looked so fucking happy to see him, he was supposed to be angry, he was supposed to be hunting. Theon gritted his teeth in frustration and hurled another bottle at him. Ramsay glanced down where it hit and laughed. His dead man's eyes glittered and kept asking, _Do you really want to play?_ It made Theon crazy. He grabbed another bottle and smashed it on the curb. "Come out here then! Come out here and DO IT!"

Ramsay smirked and slunk back, walking slowly towards the gate. He ran his fingers on the bars and kept his eyes locked on Theon, who followed. "Do what, pet?"

 _The fuck game is he playing? I'm dying with my fucking name, you bastard!_ , he thought and snarled. "Do NOT call me that. My name is THEON, hear that? Get it, do you get it? THEON, and fuck you!" He tried to goad Ramsay, he gave him the gun and waited for nothingness to take him into eternity, but Ramsay kept laughing at him. He said he'd never kill him, and it slowly dawned on Theon that he'd made a terrible mistake.

_"I would never kill you, stupid. I don't hate you. I love you."_

Theon studied Ramsay's face and found the exact same boy who said those words years ago looking at him the exact same way.

_"I won't ever hate you. I'll love you and look for you until I die."_

This density of the truth Theon saw clearly, at last, seemed to fill in blanks all around him. Ramsay made Theon sit beside him on the curb and asked him to talk about why he'd been crying. He tried to tell Ramsay that this was the day. The day had come. "They're going to kill me if you don't. Soon."

Theon kept trying to understand as Ramsay tried to lure him inside. He just sat there listening and lost, until Ramsay grabbed the back of his head and pulled it to his chest. He whispered, "You don't have a choice," and laid his head on top of Theon's. "I won't let you go, you know that, and I won't let them hurt you. You're not allowed to die."

Theon started weeping uncontrollably. He felt such relief when Ramsay held him. He could hear Ramsay's old, higher, singsong voice so clearly.

_"It's ok. I'm right here with you. I won't let anything hurt you but me."_

Maybe that was what he came all this way for after all.


	44. I Think I Made You Up Inside My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Theon stopped crying he was on the other side of a bittersweet catharsis.

He needed to tell Ramsay he saw things clearly now, he understood at last. He had so much to say and struggled to put the words together correctly. He sat up and looked Ramsay in the his shining eyes. It was astonishing how his face morphed so dramatically as he slid fluidly from a laughing friend, to a terrifying monster, a lover, to this; a wide-eyed little boy. Theon touched Ramsay's cheek with two fingers, as if that would help him figure it out. 

Ramsay raised an eyebrow. The slightest grin began pulling the corners of his mouth. "What are you doing?" Was his voice that scratchy and rumbly now? When did that happen? How did it go that low? 

"Tell me," Theon whispered, "for real and for true; are you really real?" Ramsay dropped his eyes, but smiled a little more. "Are you an actual person? Did you... you know?" 

Ramsay bit his bottom lip and shook his head. "Did I what?"

"I'm serious! No, look, wait, listen, wait, Ramsay-"

"What?"

"I'm _deadly serious_. I'm gonna ask you the one time. You HAVE to be real and be serious, ok?"

"Ok."

"I remembered. I never really forgot, I think, I just didn't remember. You know? Just moments ago I was thinking how I'd do anything for anyone, even the fucking Devil himself, to just not want me to die dead. Pitchfork, flames, goat foot? Whatever. Someone has to just not want me dead, that's all. Not love me, not like me, no, no... what was I gonna say? Oh, wait, here it comes, ok? Wait, it's very important. When you were at like, not my house, but like Greyjoy island... whatever... I had this vision, ok? I used to have them but I can't ever tell anyone. I had a vision at that party, right where the grownups were eating and shit... I was so lonely. All I could see before me was day after day of being trapped in house, dependant on these people who fucking _hated_ everything about me. Everyday, they would tell me how much I was," he dropped one hand low to the street, "and they were," he raised the other above his head. "My family would always tell me in so many million ways how I would never be up here with them. I wasn't really a Greyjoy, I wasn't really supposed to even happen. So, at this party my mom is breaking down, my dad is starting to get loud and angry, in front of all these clean, nice looking strangers and I prayed, _I'd do anything for just one person to love me. Even if it was a monster no one else could love; I will love it if it just loves me back._ " 

Ramsay's face changed again. He swallowed and pursed his lips, then let them slowly pull apart as his jaw sank. His eyes trace the bumps in the street's pavement. The prominence of his lower eyelids, and hollow spaces under his cheekbones were suddenly more pronounced. He looked so strangely vulnerable. Theon softened his tone and tried to pick his words more carefully.

"I thought that and then tried to run away from everything, I thought I'd just jump in the Gulf and swim until... but you stopped me. You asked where I was going, do you remember?"

"I remember every moment I've had with you," the same boy said with his new rumbly man's-voice. His eyes were still on the pavement, but he was seeing little Prince of this tiny island where everyone was rich and rude and looked right past Roose Bolton's bastard child. It was more of predatory instinct that made Ramsay notice the little boy born into this wealth and power. Ramsay watched the way he backed out of everyone's path, the way he smiled meekly to each person he came across while he tried to quietly slip away to the hall, the way his smile fell when he thought no one was looking. He was running, and there was something complicated and interesting he was hiding inside. He looked up at Ramsay with a kind of awe, when he was shoved against the wall, and something changed.

"Well, I went back and I had a vision that I was born into a suit of iron armor. It's so tight. I can't move or hardly breath. You're a hungry monster and come running after me with these horrible claws and start ripping my armor apart. I think I'm dying. I try to scream, but there's, like, a cloth in my mouth. You keep tearing at me until I'm naked with cuts all over me. Your claws are mutilated from tearing at the iron, some are ripped out. Your hands are red with blood." "Now you change. You hold me and try not to scratch my wounds. Everything gets really bright, and a fuzzy noise started falling down on me, but I hear you say, 'I heard you. I'll love you. Only me. All of me. Forever.'" Theon looked up at the trees swaying softly in the wind. He and Ramsay wore the same lost and hurt expression, though they were nearly touching, they felt the pain of separation more intensely than ever. Theon coughed and continued, "Then my mom was holding me and someone was shining a flashlight in my eyes. Then I think I went to sleep. So...," he looked at Ramsay, who seemed to feel his gaze and turned to meet it. " _was it real?_ "

Ramsay pulled his Reek into his lap and held him tightly. "Yeah. I think so."

"I thought if we did run away, in your car, I mean, like, on the highway, I thought that would be perfect because we could always buy a bed but your couldn't bring your basement. That's not true though, is it?" Theon curled into Ramsay's chest and pulled at a string from the tear in his jeans. 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I want your bed but not your basement." Theon muttered. 

Ramsay stroked his hair. "You want my bed?"

"I mean... I think of one to come back down when I wake up hyperventilating, shaky and sweaty because of another nightmare about the other. I just want you," Theon wound the string tightly around his finger until it snapped, "not the monster."

"I am the monster," Ramsay kissed his forehead and gripped his neck. "and you love me anyway. It's alright, _I love you more_." Theon started trembling in his arms. "It's time to go home, Reek."

"NO! I-" but before he could even finish his desperate protest, another nightmare barreled down upon his mind's eye.


	45. The Shrine of Your Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon pulled at his stiff shirt collar and leaned his head on the window.

"Why do we have to go?" Robb asked in the front seat with a cold impatience. 

"To represent your families. This is important, Robb. You have to make and keep powerful allies," Mr. Stark looked at Theon through the rearview mirror, "even you don't like them. You have to put what the family needs above your comfort."

Theon dropped his eyes to his black pant leg. He traced circles on his thigh, watching the fabric leave a tiny wake behind his finger. He hated suits. He didn't even know if they were going to a wedding or funeral, though apparently Robb had some idea of what was happening. It wasn't for Theon to ask questions, but it wasn't like Mr. Stark to hide things either. Mr. Stark kept talking to Robb about school and girls, things to say at the mystery event, things not to say. Normally he would address Theon at least twice by now with a bit of a warm smile. Theon wondered if he had done something wrong; but what?

"Make sure to offer some brief form of sympathy. I know it will be awkward, but it has to be done."

"Of course," Robb said, shrugging. "I mean... it is sad."

"He's a very stoic man, so you can be polite and to the point. We want to assure him of his value and status in our eyes," Mr. Stark sighed and shook his head. "It is so very sad. I can't imagine..."

Theon wasn't really listening. He was daydreaming about a girl he liked. He'd gotten into fight with her brother. Loras was quick and landed hard punches with surprising precision. After a few minutes, they were both leaning against the wall, outside of the movie theatre, trying to catch their breath. Theon took one look at him and found all the right words to make a new friend. Loras could be a bit exhausting after too long, but he was hilarious, bright, sure of himself, always charging ahead after something or another. He somehow saw Theon's sadness. Though he didn't try to understand it, he always tried to buoy Theon when he was low. Theon spent a winter break with his family last year. First he met Loras in his personal gym where they would spend hours boxing, then Theon met his sister. She was smart, charming, gorgeous, aloof- 

"Where are we?" Theon stiffened as he noticed that sharp, rocky hillsides had grown outside his window. The trees had become dark green giant cones stabbing the cold air so high above. He could feel the scratchy green needles on his palm and smell the pine. He turned to the rearview mirror, pleading with his eyes, "Where are going?"

"We're going to the Bolton Estate. We'll leave tonight and stay in a hotel somewhere," he looked at Theon and promised, " _all_ of us."

"I hate this place," Robb muttered.

From the time they parked to the time they entered the nightmare house Theon kept trying to find a moment to pull Robb aside. _Please don't leave me_ , he kept asking internally. Robb didn't seem to hear. He was so focused on playing his role; learning what powerful men like his father have to do and be, Theon was hardly in the background. Theon tried to keep his eyes on the floor, but they stole rapid glances here and there. He constantly searched his periphery for the monster. He tried to pretend it was any other house, any other family, but it was hopeless. He could hardly remember the years outside of this place. His chest felt tight as he was insane enough to wonder if those years had only been a dream. 

"Theon," Mr. Stark called him, waking from his madness. "Come on." He followed Mr. Stark up to a line. Everyone was in dark suits looking somber. What if there was some new arrangement? What if his father had turned? Would Mr. Stark bring him all the way up here to kill him? Why? _What if Ramsay's going to kill me for him?_ "Just be polite. It's only one day," Mr. Stark told him in a low voice. He put his hand on Theon's back and pushed him forward.

Theon looked back at Mr. Stark, trying to understand what he wanted, and nearly bumped into Roose Bolton. He looked down on Theon without feigning a smile. "Theon, come into the kitchen with me." Theon shrank from twelve years old to eight. Roose laid a cool, heavy hand on his shoulder, and he shrank even further. Voices from the east wing of the estate faded as Theon followed Roose to the living quarters. 

The kitchen smelled like honey, cinnamon, cloves and winter spices. Roose poured himself a drink from a pot on the oven into a thick glass mug. "I need you to talk my son," he looked out the glass sliding doors to the patio. "I don't know to comfort him. You always did though." Roose stared down at Theon with his glacier eyes. "You're his only friend now." Roose looked Theon over, then left him. 

Theon wrapped his arms around his chest and slowly wandered towards the stairs. He listened for any sound and tried not to make any of his own. At the foot of the stairs he stopped and looked up. He stood there picturing Ramsay curled up on his bed alone, then remembering the cage. The stairs seemed impossible to climb, yet he couldn't leave, so he sat on the last step. He stayed there arguing with himself, unable to decide what scenario was more realistic. He wondered for the thousandth time if he had just made things up or at least exaggerated them. Everytime he barely approached breaching the subject as obscurely as possible with Mr. or Mrs. Stark, they told him not be so dramatic. Mr. Stark would say things like,"Everyone has to deal with bullies, Theon. Part of becoming a man is learning how to face them."

He stood up and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He looked back upstairs and almost called out. Going outside to think for awhile occurred to him as a much better idea. He was almost to the patio door when an arm pulled his neck back and squeezed. The world faded in and out before going black.

Theon woke up to round cold steel running up against his back. His tried to move, and found his wrists taped above his head. "You were supposed to come back," Ramsay said somewhere in the dark. "You said you would. You lied to me. You left me; you left me here all alone." Ramsay's voice seemed to circle around Theon as his vision slowly sharpen. "You forgot me. You forgot who you are. I'm going to give you a permanent reminder."


	46. Won't Be Denied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ramsay," Theon squinted trying to find his form in the darkness, "please make it quick."

Ramsay didn't expect that. "Why should I?"

"I never did anything to you! You how I feel... about you. I know I matter more to you than them! Just fucking shoot me-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up! This is only about _you and I._  I plan to take all the fucking time I can." Ramsay heard Theon's breathing quicken. Behind darkness's curtain he wiped his eyes and smiled. "Are you starting to understand, you fucking idiot? You left me. You left me here all alone. I guess you don't remember, or maybe you don't fucking care what that even means."

"Mr. Stark didn't want me to come back!" he cried under the halo of fluorescent light.

" **BECAUSE OF YOU! **"**** Ramsay suddenly surged at him and threw his hands around the boys slender neck. " **YOU TOLD HIM EVERYTHING AND THEN YOU LIED TO MAKE IT WORSE!** You betrayed me! You've forsaken me! Now you've forgotten me and what we were and all we had! You don't care, do you? You don't feel this shit you put in me!" Ramsay dropped his voice and released Theon's throat. "I'll make you understand." He grabbed Theon's face with his hands and looked into his eyes. "No one else will love you but me. No one will even see the real you, _let alone love you_."

Theon shook his head. "You're wrong. I didn't tell Mr. Stark everything, how could I? I didn't fucking lie either." His features hardened and he snarled, "Lots of beautiful women will love me! All Greyjoys are great fighters and even better lovers!"

"Oh," Ramsay released him and stepped back with laughing eyes. "Greyjoys are great fighters and better lovers? And, what, you're a Greyjoy? I thought you were my little Stark reject."

" _I'm Theon fucking Greyjoy_ and I'm not you're fucking bitch!" He raged, tearing and twisting his wrists until one was moments from slipping out. "You want to fucking hit me? Let me fucking fight back then!"

Ramsay's fight brightened and he grinned. "You want to fight me? Really?"

"I want to leave and never come back but, if you're going to hurt me, I want a chance to defend myself!"

Ramsay's face darkened. "That's not a very nice thing to say, Theon-fucking-Greyjoy. You want to leave me and never come back?" Ramsay turned away and slowly walked into the dark, and back with a pair of scissors. His chest was heaving when he came back. He raised the scissors to Theon's taped wrists, then stopped. "Before you kick my ass, Theon-fucking-Greyjoy, just tell me honestly; did you hate me the whole time?"

Theon considered him with the same indignant anger, but it began to erode until he lowered his head. "No. I wanted to hate you but never figured out how."

Ramsay found hope in Theon's sorrow. "Do you love me?" he whispered. Theon's eyes flashed up to meet his and he stiffened. Ramsay knew he'd found his pet inside of the mask he'd made to protect himself. Ramsay smiled and slashed the duct tape open. Theon fell forward into his arms. "Did you miss me?"

"Stop it!" Theon spun away with surprising agility and stood turned to the side with his fists just below his chest. "Shut up! Stop fucking with me! Let me out of here!"

"I just saw a boy I used to know. Is this _Theon-Fucking-Greyjoy_ here to keep me from him? Did this fucking act of yours betray me, love?"

"SHUT UP!" Theon's fist flew out to point and condemned the monster. "You're trying to trick me! You always trick me! I didn't betray you; I was only honest! _You_ fucking hurt _me_! You left me here all alone, all night; for what? I fucking pissed myself and had to cry myself to sleep like that! Why, Ramsay? Fuck you! Fuck you! Go to hell! Don't you fucking hate me and ask me to love you!" Theon ran at Ramsay screaming, "That's my whole fucking life!"

His right fist grazed Ramsay's chin. Ramsay swerved from his fist's flight and landed a punch right under his sternum which lifted him off the ground and caused him to stumble back. He regained his footing and Ramsay started circling him.

"You were supposed to be different but you're like everyone else," Theon cried out. "Fuck you! Just rip me to shreds for some shit I didn't do. Plunge your favorite knife into my heart because I'm not whatever the fuck it is you want from me. Go ahead, kill me. Just, please, be fucking honest with me before you do. I need one person I care about to stop playing these fucking mind games! "

Ramsay laughed, "That's pretty dramatic." Theon's face screwed up in confusion. Ramsay jumped on him, knocking him down on the smooth cement. The back of Theon's head bounced off the floor. Rainbowed stars streaked in slow, dizzy waltzes across his field of vision as he moaned. It was hard to move or even think. Ramsay pinned his wrists and kissed his mouth. "So you still care about me? Do you love me?"

"That's not fair! Stop!" Theon's voice cracked. He starting shivering and shrinking inside. That terrible weight he thought he'd shed years ago was back on his chest. It hurt worse than his throbbing head.

"You remember now, pet? You remember who you are?" Theon lost the ability to rage and fight. He was so terribly small and frightened now. Ramsay's eyes ran down his body. When they came back up to lock onto Theon's, the Monster looked hungry. Theon shuddered. "Oh, god, please don't..." Theon whispered.

Ramsay smiled and tried to hold Theon's wrists with one hand. "Don't what, pet?" he whispered back.

"No! Please stop! Stop doing this, don't..."

Ramsay ran his hand down to unbutton his pet while he kissed his neck. Ramsay was so afraid he was dead or worse, a lie, but he was right there beneath him. "I missed you so much," Ramsay told him, in his ear. Theon started crying. The weight covering his chest bore in deeper. "I don't hate you. I don't even hate Theon-fucking-Greyjoy; I just need him out of our way."

"Wha-what are you talking about?" Ramsay kissed him very softly, and it felt to kind to be a lie. "Do _you_ love me?"

"Always." Ramsay released his wrists to pull off his shirt.

Theon let himself be moved while he lay there, dazed. "I thought you hated me."

"Well, don't be so fucking stupid." Ramsay started pulling his pants off and Theon snapped back to his senses.

"No! Please!" He grabbed Ramsay's wrists and pulled back, but it was hopeless.

"I have to make you understand. It's not hate, it's love. You'll see. I'm going to show you."

"Jesus! Fuck! NO!" Theon panicked and gave up pulling his pants back to his knees. He slipped out and ran for the stairs. He made it to the door, but it wouldn't open. "SOME ONE HELP ME!!" He screamed as loud as he could. He was caught around his waist and neck and carried back down the stairs. "Please! Please let me go!"

"Never."


	47. Tell You My Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon was a slippery, writhing thing to carry; more motion than matter.

Ramsay was halfway down when Theon kicked the wall beside them, nearly knocking them both off the stairs. "STOP!" Ramsay growled in his ear. "Stop fighting me!"

"Get off of me! Let me go and we can talk! We only have to talk!" Theon's struggled to force the words from his mouth as Ramsay tightened his bicep and forearm on the sides of Theon's neck. 

"No!" Ramsay's voice was shaking. "I need this. You can't leave me, you have to know-"

Theon started to fade in and out again, but was able to grip the handrail and Ramsay's shirt collar. He put his foot on the step below and dropped, pulling Ramsay forward, over his shoulder. As Ramsay fell over him, he nearly pulled Theon with him but released his arm in time. Theon closed his eyes and crouched as he heard four thuds, one after another. He listened a moment, then he opened his eyes. 

"Ramsay?" He could make out the form laying at the bottom of the stairs enough to see it wasn't moving. His heart dropped. "I didn't mean to..." He couldn't tell if Ramsay was breathing, bleeding, or broken. "Ramsay?" He took another step down. He didn't see any blood, or contorted joints Ramsay was still and silent. Theon crept closer until he was beside the body. Ramsay's eyes were open and staring, unseeing, into nothing. His face seemed frozen. "Oh, no, no, you're not dead!" he cried. Leaning over Ramsay he touched his face with a trembling hand.

"I am not dead, you fucking idiot. I am so fucking mad that I can not move," Ramsay said through a clenched jaw.

"Oh fuck! I thought I killed you! I'm so sorry!" Theon started crying with relief, and put his forehead on Ramsay's chest. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. It just happened. Are you hurt? Can you feel everything? You arms are twitching." Theon sat up and looked him over.

"I am so fucking enraged that I am afraid to blink too hard. Every single fucking cell in my god damned body wants to tear your throat out with my fucking teeth, so I am trying to _not-move_." Ramsay took a deep breath. Theon sat up very slowly. "Listen to me; do not run. Do you understand?" Ramsay growled emphasizing each syllable through grinding teeth.

"Yes. I won't," Theon lowered himself and rested his head back on Ramsay's chest. "I'm sorry. I won't fight anymore."

Ramsay was able to breathe just a little easier. "Good, good, that's helping." His jaw and fists were clenched so tight that his arms, chest, and neck were spasming. 

"If I didn't care, I'd run to get my clothes and search you for the key, you know that, right? I didn't mean to risk killing or paralyzing you! I panicked. Please, when you didn't move..." but it was too complicated; if he didn't understand, how he could he explain?

Ramsay started laughing loudly. Unstable waves of caustic, barking echoed against the cold, damp, walls. "Like three steps would kill _me_?! Like I don't know how to fucking roll during a fall? Like I haven't been thrown down these stairs from the fucking doorway?!" Ramsay shot up to sitting and looked Theon in the eye. " _I nearly snapped your fucking neck._ THAT'S what almost happened! That was an _instant_ from happening." He crawled over Theon, who now used every bit of his willpower not to move. "In my fucking arms, Theon? By my own fucking arm?!" He raised it as if to show some damning stain. 

Then he started laughing wildly again, and his head dropped below his shoulders. "This thing happens to me, when I get too angry. I just see these things in my head; I can't stop them and sometimes they just happen," he shook his head and giggled. He looked up and his eyes and grin were so grotesquely wide, that Theon started weeping. "And then it's like I watch myself, and," he inhaled deeply, "there's just blood everywhere and flesh tearing in my hands and mouth, and screaming and its _wonderful_. I ascend this worthless, shitty, boring mundanity to become a vengeful god, drinking in life, finally feeling it inside and out. I transform into this untouchable, beaming force of righteous ecstasy and destruction!" He held his face and closed his eyes. He sat on Theon's thighs. "It's incredible." He grinned and swayed, then slowly opened his eyes and the pleasure drained slightly. "But... something bad always happens. Like," he doubled over laughing and grabbed his sides, "THAT SHIT, upstairs!" He burst out pointing. "You came to his funeral and almost joined him! Help me! I don't want to open your throat," he roared, and slumped laughing. He gripped his head and tried to push flashing images out before they dug into his jaw.

Theon stayed very still and kept his eyes closed tight and felt himself slipping away. He felt Ramsay scratch his throat, quivering with a deep need beyond sanity. "I'm sorry, Master," Theon sobbed. "Please forgive me. I won't run, I won't fight; I'll be good!"

"Good, that's good." Ramsay dropped his jeans and boxers. "Tell me I own you." He rubbed his precum over his hard cock.

Theon whimpered. "You own me, Ramsay. I'm yours."

"Ok, good, it's helping. That's good." Theon screamed and Ramsay covered his mouth. "I know, I know it hurts. You have to take it for me." A hot tear landed on Theon's forehead. "I didn't want it to be like this." 

Theon was lost somewhere in pain. He still heard Ramsay in his ear while his own voice kept screaming, " _You're mine, always, only, mine. I'm your everything; your father, your mother, your lover, your god. You can never leave me now that I'm inside you. You have to understand. You're mine, always, only, mine."_ Ramsay squeezed Theon's wrist and mouth tighter and whispered, "I love you." Theon felt warm pressure further inside him and his stomach cramped. Ramsay lifted Theon's leg moving it to the other side, then slowly and carefully, without pulling out, he gently rolled Theon onto his side. Ramsay wrapped an arm through the gap between Theon's neck and shoulder and held his chest, then laid his other arm over Theon's shoulder and held his wrist. 

Ramsay wished they could be covered in warm, thick, oozing sap and hardened into amber. He couldn't find the strength to watch his pet go through the door upstairs again. He had no idea how much time they had left, or what would happen if his father found him here with Theon like this. He needed a confession so his pet could repent and be forgiven. Theon needed an authentic identity, separate from the terrible role he was forced to play away from Ramsay's care. Theon needed a reminder he couldn't escape. 

It was an hour before Ramsay could bring himself to stop holding his most precious boy this way though. He didn't look forward to hurting him any further. Yet, he had to do everything he could to be certain he would get his pet back once he crossed that threshold above them and left Ramsay all alone, again.


	48. Sharpen Your Knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More than anything, he didn't want to let go.

He woke up on the cold floor, curled around Theon to the sound of a bell tolling. He pulled himself away at last and followed the noise to the pile of clothes he'd torn off of the boy. Theon's phone displayed Robb's message.

**You doing ok?**

**Yeah, I'm fine.**

He answered on Theon's behalf. Ramsay remembered time would not stop for him and the world outside the basement door wouldn't bend to meet his needs. He fixed his jeans and smoothed his shirt and hair then crept back to Theon. Ramsay knelt beside him. He rolled Theon onto his back to look him in the eyes, but the sad sea orbs floated to the ceiling with numb resignation. "Theon," Ramsay whispered, " _do you love me?_ "

Theon stared at the into the air above without speaking.

Ramsay climbed over him and held Theon's face in his hands. "Look at me! Tell me!" Theon murmured something he couldn't make out. "What?"

"Th-this is, this is why."

"I don't understand." Ramsay leaned in closer.

"This is wh-why I left you."

Ramsay sat up, inhaling deeply. The cold ache of their separation swept down upon him like winter wind. In this tiny window of time together, the pain was unbearable. "Fine. Be a brat," Ramsay sneered under his breath. He grabbed Theon's ankles and dragged him back to the steel support beam under the lone sputtering, jaundiced, basement light. Theon groaned and twisted, trying to stop the floor from burning his back as his bare skin scraped over it's rough surface. Ramsay grabbed the duct tape on his way. "This is why you didn't come back, huh?" He pulled Theon up to standing, and began to tape his wrists above his head. "Let's talk about that." Theon hung his head and groaned. "So, you told your loving Stark daddy not to send you back to me? That's why he wouldn't let me have you, isn't it?"

"He's not my father, and he doesn't love me. _No one_ does." Theon finally looked at Ramsay, cold yet heartbroken.

Ramsay frowned at that. "It's like you _want_ to hurt my feelings." Theon started crying in response, and Ramsay felt something inside himself expressed hearing it. It weighed heavily on Ramsay's heart to face the truth.

He'd known that Theon betrayed him, but had held out an insane hope, in furthest recess of his mind, that it wasn't true. He'd gone through so many nonsense-scenarios, trying to make any bullshit fit. Maybe Eddard Stark was holding Theon against his will and lying to Father about it. Maybe Father was lying to him because he didn't care to have Theon around. Maybe that old drunk took his son back, and no one wanted to tell him. Maybe he was sick, and Father didn't want to deal with Ramsay's reaction. Ramsay would spend days thinking of how it might not be Theon's fault. He'd fantasize about rescuing Theon, who'd cry with relief just seeing Ramsay's face again. He'd always run and jump on Ramsay, throw his arms around Ramsay's neck and promise never to leave again. Ramsay always knew he was telling himself faery tales, but it still hurt to have that last ember of undying hope smothered.

Ramsay brought his little horror trolley forth into the miserable light. "Do you know why no one else loves you? Why no one else ever will, except," he stabbed a finger into his own chest, " _me_? You're marked. You're mine; your body, heart, mind," Ramsay's tongue darted out and slid across his lips. He swallowed hard. His eyes grew wider and glistened. "your life and all of you belong to me," he leaned in close," _and everyone knows it._ No one will see beneath these masks you've had to make, no one will even try. No one will really touch you like me. No one will hear you, they'll all stay at arms length and be happy to buy your lies."

Ramsay lifted Theon's chin to look him in the eyes, "Everyone knows, will always know, you are owned by a monster who'd like nothing more than to eat their hearts." Theon's head swayed to the side. He tried to make his eyes focus, he was breathing deeply. Ramsay smiled and touched his forehead to Theon's. "You are not a pirate prince, my love. You're not a great fighter of men and lover of women. You're not a smiling, spoiled, self-important, snob either. You're not a Stark, and you're not this Theon-fucking-Greyjoy lie you've had to make; you know that."

" _Please_..."

"You'll look everywhere for love and comfort without me, it's useless. They'll smell it when they come near you; _my scent marking you._ Everyone will turn away but me. I'll follow it." He grabbed Theon's throat and smoothed tears off his cheek. "I'll hunt you. I'll look for you every moment you're not in sight until I die. I'll catch your scent from a thousand miles away; its so strong, you _Reek_."

Theon shook and his eyes searched Ramsay's wildly. "You're crazy," he whispered, shaking his head.

Ramsay laughed and grabbed a knife from the trolley. "What did you tell him?"

Theon started thrashing as though the trance he'd been moving through was just shattered. "I-I, it was nothing! I had to! Please stop! Let me go, please! Just leave me alone, I'll never say anything! Never again!"

"I believe you." He went back to the trolley and grabbed more tape."I believe you'll never say anything again; after tonight." He grabbed Theon's flailing feet and drank in his hysterical crying. "I love how you beg me. It's a talent you have, honestly. It just gets to me." He smiled and stood up to look the boy in the eyes. "Did you tell him I hurt you? Did you tell him I _touched_ you?" Ramsay bit his lip when Theon blushed and his bare chest flushed splotchy pink. Ramsay grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pulled his head to the side to expose his pretty neck. He kissed and licked it, down towards his shoulder. Theon twisted and inhaled deeply. He shook his head, fighting with himself. It made Ramsay starve to take all of him. He sucked at the spot where Theon battled, and slowly bit down.

When he felt Theon getting hard against his leg, the boy suddenly raged, "GET OFF OF ME! WHY?! Why are you doing this to me?"

"But you want it."

"NO! Please, I only told him you hit me! I would never tell anyone how you touch me, I'd rather die!" Theon's bravery fled when his anger burned out. 

"Than what? You'd rather die than what?" Ramsay growled. "Than anyone know that..."

Theon hung his head and sobbed, "It's not fair, it's not fair! What did I ever do to you?'

"' _It's not fair. Ramsay hurt me. Why me? Someone help me! Please, please, let me go!'_ You want to be a fucking martyr? You'd rather die than people know you're my bitch?" Ramsay went to the tray to drop the throwing knife and instead get his favorite, special, knife for his favorite toy. "Let's see if you got your wish." He stabbed Theon in the ribs and sliced with the blade at an angle so the cut opened wide. Theon screamed and his eyes rolled back. "Well, the martyr bleeds! He lives yet! Should we try something else, my suffering saint? How would you like a nice St. Andrew's Cross?"

"No, please, what do you want? What do you want? Please!"

"No? No. You don't really want _leave me_ do you? That's an awful thing to say to say to me. Why would you steal my favorite toy?"

"No, I don't! It hurts! It hurts! I'm sorry." 

"Who owns you?" Ramsay lifted his face with both hands. 

"You do. You own me, Ramsay."

"For how long?"

"Forever. Always."

"Again! Louder!"

"You own me! Forever!"

"A Saint Andrews cross is on my family crest. Do you know it? It looks just like an X. Show me how smart you are," Ramsay's face split with a wide grin. " _Tell me your name_."

"Theon!" he screamed with a hoarse voice.

"Wrong." Ramsay sliced his ribs with a long line again, and he screamed. 

"Oh god! Oh god! Please!"

"What is your name?"

"Theon Greyjoy!" Ramsay sighed compassionately then grinned and sliced into his side again. "Fuck! Fuuuuck!"

"You didn't figure it out? _Reek is your name_ , now tell me!" Ramsay ran his hand under the wounds to feel the warm blood. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked. It tasted like iron and salt. He kissed Theon and asked again, patiently, "What is your name?"

"Ramsay-"

"No," he sliced again, "that's _my_ name. Now we've come to the bad part. I would try harder if I was you." 


	49. Secrets Wrapped in Dead Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want you to know I have a wonderful painkiller for you if you tell me the truth and make me believe you're sorry."

"I already told you the truth," Theon moaned, rolling his head to his shoulder.

"Shh, first; what is your name?"

"Please-"

"Wrong again." Ramsay went back to his horror trolley. He set down his favorite knife and put on new latex gloves, snapping them into place with a smile. Then he slid a drawer open and picked up a straight razor. "I sterilized everything when I heard you were coming," he said, eyeing the beautiful blade and savoring the anticipation. He looked over his shoulder at Theon and smiled, "That's how special you are to me." Theon made an exciting new noise as Ramsay came closer; something between whining, crying, and hyperventilating. High pitched, sharp spikes of fear and despair. Still not enough. Ramsay kissed his cheek lightly. " _This_  is the hard part."

Ramsay picked a corner of skin off the X he'd made and pulled. Theon threw back his head hitting the pole, and groaned through clamped jaws. "Reek!"

"Good. Who's my pet?" Ramsay slid the razor's edge under the flap of skin and began using a fine sawing motion with it while he peeled the skin away.

" _ME!_ " Theon screamed wildly. "PLEASE STOP!"

"The sooner you tell the truth, the faster you get your painkiller. You lied about me to Ned, you told him I made you sleep with the dogs outside! What else did you tell you him?"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Theon screamed, hoarse and drooling. He sobbed, "You don't want the truth, PLEASE,  _what do you want me to say_?" Ramsay furrowed his brow. His nostrils flared as he frowned, seething. He started sawing and peeling again. "MASTER, PLEASE," Theon arched and screamed, "why would he BRING ME HERE to your father TO COMFORT YOU? I told him you HIT ME! That's it, I fucking swear! I swear, I swear, I fucking promise, please!"

"You're lying." Ramsay said flatly, and started on the opposite side, working down.

Theon trembled and quaked with stuttering breaths. "I-I'm n-n-not LY-LYING!"

"We'll see," Ramsay grumbled, but he wasn't so sure. Why wasn't Theon confessing yet? Theon almost sounded like a dying cat when Ramsay pulled the X off his ribs. He laid the skin carefully on glass plate he had waiting on a bench and set the glass cover on top of it. Theon appeared to be in the throes of a terrible fever; mumbling drooling, convulsing, it was all so manipulative and dramatic. The cross was majestic on his side. Strangely white at first, but blood was slowly seeping to the surface at the corners.

Light and shadows came together to make a clear picture, and Ramsay's stomach dropped. "Comfort me?"

"Ya-you-your fa-fa-"

"Father? What? Sent for you, to 'comfort' me?"

The boy nodded, as he twitched and silently hiccupped. "Sa-said you... alone... and g-go to h-him."

Ramsay's eyelids fell like dusk.  _He knows._  Pain wrinkled and drew up his face, and he hurried to the waiting needle. He stabbed his Reek and shot relief into his arm.

 

"I wouldn't get too excited about seeing Theon, son." Roose murmured from across the table.

"He isn't coming?"

"No, Mr. Stark wanted to bring him, appearances have to be kept at such functions... even funerals for young men. I didn't see a reason to hurt you by telling you before... well," Roose considered his untouched filet mignon a moment then pushed the plate away. "best to leave him be. That's all." Roose stood to leave.

"Why?" Ramsay had asked so desperate and foolishly. "WHY?" Roose stopped and looked at him with an annoyed frown. "Tell me, Father, please!"

Roose sighed and sat down again. He raised an eyebrow, "Well, ..."

 

 _Is this a test to see if I'm a killer then? No, it’s a life for a life._  Ramsay smiled and almost laughed.  _It's just what I would do._

When Roose checked the basement, it was dark, clean and empty. He didn't understand. He checked on the dogs; all still in the kennels. He walked back into the house and looked around, then looked up above.

He peaked his head into Ramsay's open door and saw the boys lying on Ramsay's bed, curled up together atop the covers. One of the bastard's inane comedies was playing on his television. They appeared to be sleeping. Roose still didn't understand, so he left to think about it. He decided that night that he would take full custody of his bastard child and only living son.

***

Ramsay remembered everything, but Theon did not; he was not. As Ramsay thought back on his story of that day, Theon relived pictures, feelings, and sensations as they attacked him; exploding then playing out. He was lost to the present, screaming in amber. He was running down the sidewalk. The sole of his barefoot was stabbed by broken glass, and he kept running without feeling it, hearing the monster behind him, or knowing where he was running.


	50. Here, In My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon ran without feeling a thing.

His mind had stopped dragging him through pieces of the nightmare. He was watching himself dart into the woods, sail, leaping, over a fallen tree trunk, weave around trees and bushes and he knew it was a dream. He didn't feel the soft crunching leaves or hard clay dirt on his feet. He wasn't sucking in dry, cold air. He was watching someone else run from the shadow stomping like a war drum up behind him. He was somewhat glad to be watching the surreal scene at a distance.

Slammed from behind and he was suddenly on his stomach, a weight pressing down on his back. His body had taken control of itself and still struggled to flee. His squashed torso couldn't twist enough to let his hands reach at Ramsay. He was only exhausting himself but he couldn't stop. It would be easier to stop his heartbeating than to stop fighting now. His hands tore raging uselessly at the ground, as he tried to spin around. He heard himself grunt and growl like a wild animal.

"Stop," Ramsay commanded in a low, serene voice. "It's alright."

Theon kicked, nearly running against the ground, and pushed up with both arms. He got close to toppling Ramsay, but Ramsay steadied himself with one leg, and forced Theon's right hand behind his back. He wrapped his foot around Theon's right leg and pushed it out, spreading it. Theon's left arm crumbled under his weight and Ramsay's. He kept gasping and groaning as he sank. Ramsay pulled his left arm up behind his back as exhaustion overcame him. Ramsay felt Theon go limp and begin to catch his breath. Theon whined and rested his head on the ground. Ramsay released his left arm and brushed the dirty hair out of Theon's face. He could just make out Theon's eyes searching through an internal fog.

Ramsay stroked his hair and relaxed the grip on his arm. "Are you with me?"

"Hnnng."

"You're not going to run, are you?" Theon shook his head. "Good boy. Shhh, you're alright." Ramsay released his arm and spun around to look at Theon's foot. "I'll have to call Qyburn." He moved to Theon's side and scooped him up.

Theon was so tired, his eyes were rolling. His foot started to pulse with sharp pain, Ramsay mentioning it made seemed to bring the injury into his mental spotlight. "What happened to me?"

"You ran barefoot over the glass you smashed everywhere," Ramsay smiled at him and carried him towards the gate. Theon's ocean eyes dropped, defeated, while his eyebrows rose to plead for something. Ramsay stopped before the gate and looked at the house from where he stood. "You hit the door, huh?"

"Uh huh," Theon regained some life, "and I did it drrrrrrunk."

"Yeah?" Ramsay tilted his head. "I can hit the window on the door."

"Nuh uh." Ramsay shot a sharp look at Theon and saw that goofy lopsided grin on his face. "Oh yeah? Watch me." He set Theon down on the sidewalk and picked a bottle laying just under the open car door. He whipped the bottle through the sweet, chilly, air and it clanked and cracked against the window. They both laughed. "Hey!" Theon whispered loudly, covering his mouth. "Try to hit the doorbell. I couldn't do it."

"The doorbell? Shit." Ramsay seemed to glow like he used to. He swooped down into the car and popped up with three bottles. "Alright. You watching?"

"Yeah."

"You better watch. Don't fucking miss this shit, I'm gonna blow your mind. Ready?" Theon nodded. His cheek puffed out a little under his eye when he tried not to grin. Ramsay took a breath, focused, stilled himself and threw as he exhaled. The door flew open just before the glass shattered. "Oh shit!" Theon started crawling as fast as he could behind some bushes and Ramsay rushed down next to him, covering his mouth. They looked at each other; Theon with wide eyes, Ramsay waiting.

"What the fuck!" A grumbly voice shouted down.

Ramsay's head fell back and he sighed. "It's just Locke," he whispered, grinning. He lifted Theon in his arms again and walked to the gate. "I GOT HIM!" He called. "He's drunk and ... high!" Then he carried Theon past the gate, just like that. Theon watched it rumble shut over Ramsay's shoulder and remembered he was supposed to be panicking. The combination of physical and emotional distress together with rum and a gallon of stout beer was enough to make his body feel like lead. His foot was throbbing; he couldn't run far on it, he couldn't drive like this. Drive? He couldn't even fight his way to his car. This was all pretty stupid. He remembered he could always kill himself later, and that made him feel better as they got closer the door.

Locke met them halfway in the yard. "What is this?"

"Don't worry, I took care of it. Tell my Father Theon needs to see Qyburn right away."

"Hmm, that's Theon? He was throwing all those fucking bottles? You almost hit me, you dumb cunt."

"Did he ring the doorbell?"

Locke raised his eyebrow.

"That last time, did the doorbell ring?"

"Yeah-"

"OH! YOU LITTLE FUCKER!" Ramsay yelled and stuck his finger in Theon's face. "I told you not to do that!"

Theon bit his lip and tried to look sad and afraid; they way he _should_ be feeling.

Ramsay sat Theon on the kitchen counter, putting his foot in the sink. "Alright, let's see how much this is going to bleed." He the corner of his mouth curled up. He ran his greedy tongue against his teeth and pulled the first piece out. 

"Oh!" Theon hadn't seen that much blood coming out of him for sometime. Different shades and consistency of red swirled in the water. "Oh..." He felt lightheaded.

"Baby," Ramsay wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady him.

"No, no, no, hey, no. No! I'm just a little drunk." Theon used his fingers to show Ramsay how little. "I'm fine! Blood? Whatever. I love it, fine. I'm not... fucking baby."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! I can, I'm fine- I'll do it, I'll do it. I can do it." Theon kept nodding but tried to focus on his big toe's toenail to ignore the blood.

"Good, because here comes the big piece." Theon felt it and his eyes bulged. He swayed a little. "Look at it." Ramsay leaned in close, laughing at him. "Common, big boy, take a good look."

Theon nodded his head slowly and leaned over. He kept nodding even as he started making a sour face. He saw, what looked like a clot, circle the drain. "Ok. I'm gonna puke."

Ramsay laughed. "No! Don't!"

"I'm going to puke on my foot."

"Don't!"

"I am going to vomit on my foot; my foot with the open wound, oh god! I'm going to hurl on right onto my own blood!"

"Don't!" Ramsay put his hand over Theon's mouth and fell against the countertop laughing. "Don't, don't! That can't be hygienic!"

"Ramsay," Roose said cooly from the back of the kitchen where he'd entered. "I told you to wait until I cleared things with Tywin."

Ramsay's smile dropped, his face carried a sudden weight as he straightened himself. "Balon Greyjoy turned against the Starks. They were going to kill Theon."

Roose came into the kitchen and looked Theon over as the boy lowered his head. "Dr. Qyburn is on his way. Get proof, then take care of the problem."

Ramsay beamed at his father. "I will, I swear. _Can I keep him now?_ "

"Yes, I think we shall." He leaned towards Theon, who kept his gaze low. "Welcome home."

After removing the glass and cleaning the wound, Ramsay wrapped Theon's foot and took him upstairs. He loved carrying Theon around and having him stay where he was put. He considered beating the soles of his feet as a possible punishment. There was so much time to try things out now. Ramsay felt so light and quick; a happiness without hunger. Theon hid his face in Ramsay's chest. Ramsay rubbed his back. He laid Theon down gently on the bed and used pillows to lift his foot. 

"You think..." Theon started, but lost the words. "I don't, I really don't have to go back? For real?"

"You're never going back, and they're not coming to get you."

"I'm sorry," Theon said, looking very sad suddenly. Ramsay didn't seem to understand. "For drinking and smoking and stuff. I thought I was..." 

"It's alright. I need you to play a game for me, and if you win, I'll forgive you." Ramsay sat on the edge of his bed, next to Theon. "Don't worry, you can win. I know you will, I want you to. It's very important. Will you try very hard for me?"

Theon lowered his voice to a near whisper. "Yes, Sir."

"Good!" Ramsay jumped down and pulled his toy box out from under his bed. "Let's play!"


	51. The Sea Wants to Take Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay dropped his toy chest on the foot of the bed and looked up at Theon with famished eyes.

Theon tried not to squirm away. Ramsay started taking things out and setting them in front of the box, where Theon couldn't see. He picked up handcuffs and came towards Theon. He held them up and dangled them. "Leather!" Theon only shrank a little further. "Remember? It's pretty soft, fur-lined, leather. Isn't that nice? Better than metal, right? Here, feel it." He held it out to Theon who felt it and nodded. 

"It is," he swallowed. "thank you." 

Ramsay's face lit up. He made a grabbing motion with his free hand. Theon closed his eyes for a second and took a breath, then held out a wrist. Ramsay looked at the thin, pink, slashes around his narrow wrists. His eye was still purple and blue, thought the swelling had gone away and now his foot was bandaged; it all made him more precious. Ramsay almost lost focus.

"This is a very important game," he said in a low tone as he cuffed one wrist, "but it's a game, not a punishment. You don't have to be so afraid, I know you'll do a good job for me. All you have to do, is answer like Theon-fucking-Greyjoy." A biting smile crept on his face. He pulled off Theon's hoodie then cuffed his hands behind his back. "Look at me. Are you paying attention? Good. You just have to play a little make believe for me. Isn't that easy? I need you to pretend that you didn't come see me; you're still out driving around like a little drunk fuck up, and you got a call from Robb. Here's the trick; you have to pretend you're talking to Robb and that I'm not listening. You won't get in trouble, it's just a game. It's ok to be a little shit; I know that's probably confusing but you have to try very hard. Don't worry about saying the wrong thing, or giving the wrong answer, ok? Just answer right away. Don't lie, don't change things. If I don't like what you say, I'll tell you to change it. Can you do that?"

"Oh fuck..." Dread constricted around Theon's burning chest. He wanted to beg, or protest, but Ramsay pulled out a knife, and his words ran from it. "I-I have to... right?" He nodded as he asked.

"That's right, puppy," Ramsay set the knife on the nightstand, just inches from Theon's side, "you don't have a choice." He took a thick, black, sleeping mask out of the toy chest. "Hey," Theon looked from the mask to Ramsay's shining frozen eyes, "it's just a game."

Theon was blindfolded and pulled into Ramsay's lap, with his hands bound behind his back. Ramsay asked if he was ready.

"Yes, Sir."

Ramsay stroked his head. When he spoke again, he sounded like Robb. "Where are you?"

Theon gulped and started tapping his foot against the mattress. "You know I can't tell you that."

"You need to come home."

"Are _you_ at _your_ home?" Theon said through gritted teeth. 

"Yes. I need to see you. Come home, Theon."

"Hmm. It has to be you, Robb. You know that, right? That's what your father would have wanted; it's what he would have done. You have to do it. Are you ready for this?"

"You're freaking out for no reason. I'm not going to kill you, if that's what you're implying. You need to come home now, you can't just disappear like this. You shouldn't even be driving." Ramsay pet Theon's head and changed his voice. "Tell him to meet you alone somewhere. Tell him it has to be him again, that was very good."

Theon whined and twisted, thinking beyond the room, beyond the present, beyond Ramsay and his game. Cold metal landed on his chest and he gasped. Then he relaxed a little and nodded. " _I don't have a choice, I have to, I have to,_ " he rubbed his feet against the bed and twisted in Ramsay's lap. He could see Robb as a little, curly headed boy following him everywhere.

_What are you doing now, Theon? Where are you going? How do you do that?_

" _Please,_ " he whispered and pushed his chest into the knife, " _help me._ " Ramsay dug the blade in and dragged it towards the center. He held his breath until it was over, then relaxed. The mask caught the first tears that fell. He took a deep breath and nodded against Ramsay's broad chest. "I'm not going to the house, Robb. It can't be some fucking stranger you just hired. It has to be you." He licked his lips and swallowed a painful lump. "I need you to tell me it's not my fault. I need to hear that. Tell me you love me. Tell me you're sorry. Then make it quick. You can do that. If you ever cared anything for me, if the years I spent serving you and your family meant anything at all, you can do this for me before... oh, god." He started shaking and crying miserably. Ramsay pet his head. 

**I'll meet you; just me. I'm not going to kill you, ok? I'm trying to work something out so I don't have to. That's why I went to the capital. I'm close to making a deal, you just have to come home where you'll be safe. The people I hired are there to protect you. Where do you want me to pick you up?**

"I'll meet you; just me. Where do you want me to pick you up?" the impression of Robb asked.

Theon sighed. "The park. Don't fucking ambush me, Robb. I don't want to be shot a dozen times, and I don't want it to be a stranger. Give me something. After everything; you have to give me this. If I even think you brought a dog with you, I'll leave before you see me."

"I just want to talk. Where-"

"YOU LIAR! YOU FUCKING LIAR! Just fucking be honest with me FOR ONCE! Be fucking honest and mean what the fuck you're saying! Ask me what the fuck it actually is that you _actually want from me_! MOTHERFUCKER! This is it! This is the last fucking ... and you're still fucking with me. You still... it should be Jon. He's more like your father, you're a bitter cunt like your mother." Theon moved his head as though he was looking around through the sleeping mask. "I'm sorry... I forgot-"

"Shh, you're doing so well. Where in the park, Theon?"

"What am I doing? Please? Please help me, I swear I'm trying..." the knife came slicing down carving second a burning trail across his chest. He felt blood this time, and relief as he bleed. "Thank you, I'm sorry." He took another deep breath. "By that huge white oak we used to-" he choked on his words and writhed in his guilt. A tear broke through the mask to run down his cheek. "- where we'd play pirates. Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

"Shhh, it's all over. You did a good job." Ramsay pulled the mask off. "It's just a game, and it's all over now. You didn't do anything, we were just pretending." 

Ramsay pushed Theon onto the mattress. He was wracked with sharp sobbs. He looked up at Ramsay shivering, with pleading eyes. "Please, please, did I do what you wanted?"

Ramsay kissed his forehead. "Yes, you wonderful. You did a very good job for me." Ramsay put an antibiotic cream on the cuts and taped gauze over them. "I want you to get some rest. Take a good nap for me."

"You're leaving aren't you? Please don't leave me like this. I can't live with this."

"You can, you will. I'm going to help you sleep. When you wake up, I'll probably be back already." Ramsay bit his lip and crawled over Theon.

"Help me? _Not like that,_ " Theon whispered, crying. "I can't! I can't now, not now, not-" Ramsay kissed him and unbuttoned his pants, " _Please don't make me._ " Ramsay grinned and licked his tears.


	52. The Knife Wants to Slit Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay removed the rest of Theon's clothes, then told him to open his mouth.

He slid the gag in and stroked Theon's cheek. "Don't look at me like that. It calms you down. This is only to help you rest, don't be scared." Ramsay's voice was warm velvet wrapping all around Theon's anguished thoughts until they were silenced. He sat against the headboard and pulled Theon into his lap; facing forward. Theon's fingers grabbed onto Ramsay's shirt. "You're such a good boy," rolled sweetly from his mouth to Theon's ear. He started kissing the back of Theon's neck and ran his fingers over the scar he made on Theon's ribs. Theon started melting, resting the back of his head on Ramsay's shoulder. "It's just you and I. Everything outside that door can burn to the ground. It doesn't matter as long as I can keep you. Show me how good you can be for me. Hear only me, feel only my touch, keep all of yourself right here with me."

Ramsay pulled his neck to the side and started sucking and gently biting. Theon's head rolled back further on his shoulder as he hummed. "Good boy." Ramsay kissed his good boy's cheek and slid his hand down, away from the scar. "Do you know what I want you to do for me now?" he whispered and licked his lips. Theon whined and nodded. Ramsay told him what a good, special, loyal boy he was. When he told his pet to come, he did on command.

Ramsay held him tightly to keep his as close as he could. He kept thinking, _perfect, mine, only mine, and perfect_ , but he knew he had to go.

He laid his Reek down in the bed and pulled the sheets and comforter up to his chin. He put on a Mel Brooks movie Theon used to love, with the volume down low, and turned out the lights. He quickly changed into work clothes and got his duffle bag. He grabbed Theon's old phone and texted Robb.

**b there in 15**

He stopped remembering he hadn't uncuffed his pet, who might have to drink some water, puke, or piss soon. No need to make a bigger mess than necessary. Ramsay unhooked the cuffs behind his back but left them on his wrists. Reek sighed and curled up in a little ball. His mouth was hanging open just a little. His sandy waves fell crashing on the pillow which had been cold so long without him. His breath was soft on Ramsay's arm.

Ramsay's face split in a crazed grin remembering that self-important, dead-eyed, shit wanted to send a bullet flying right between those wide eyes to explode out the back of his skull, destroying Ramsay's stupid, sweet, puppy in an instant. _It won't be that easy for you, Robb_ , he thought getting off the bed and heading out. _It's going to be so fucking slow._

 

"Are you sure the kid's coming?" The man asked chewing gum and leaning back in his chair. "He didn't seem to buy your 'talk it out' line." Robb just stared out the windshield. "Gonna be dawn before too long. Have to leave before the park opens."

"He's coming." Robb sighed. His phone buzzed.

**where r u? nm i'm out**

"Shit!" Robb wondered when and how he came in.

**No, no. I'm here. Be right there.**

"Ok, just make it clean and quick." Robb couldn't look at the man whose name he couldn't remember and didn't want to know. He wanted it to just happen, be a shock, and be over. _He won't suffer, he won't see it coming._ Robb stopped before shutting the car door. Still looking straight ahead he said, "Let me say goodbye first." Then he slammed the door and started walking to the tree.

They used to pretend it was a great and feared pirate ship. It had two enormous branches growing nearly opposite of each other. The one facing the creek was the bow, the opposite was the stern. Theon taught him which branches were 'port' and 'starboard' and when it was windy he might yell down from the crow's nest to Robb, at the helm, to turn her windward or leeward in his best pirate voice. They always landed and looked for treasure at a new island. Sometimes there were monsters to fight off, sometimes other pirates, sometimes there was treasure, but the mutinous crew would try to steal it from them. A few times, when Theon was older and complained about having to 'watch' Robb, they'd actually find little treasures on the cool, pebbly banks of the creek. Robb gave a ring he'd found to his first girlfriend in sixth grade.

He'd never stopped to realize it had to be Theon buying and burying dollar store jewelry and coins for him to find. It seemed so stupid and obvious now. This wasn't the time for nostalgia and weakness, though. He had a lifetime of protecting his family ahead of him, if he didn't kill Greyjoy after his family swore that would be the price for Balon's betrayal, then the Stark's word would mean nothing. His enemies would never settle, or negotiate, they'd walk all over him. What if someone took his only living son away from him one day...

There was a gunshot behind him. He looked up and didn't see anyone in the tree, which was just a few feet away now. _He must have gone looking for me._ Robb walked over to the creek and sat on a large stone, smoothed by high waters. He put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples. _I couldn't do it. I loved you too much._ He drank in a deep breath of Autumn air. _Now they'll all know I'm not fucking around. This will set the tone for things; it will prevent violence in the future. I didn't end his life, his father did. His own father. My father could have killed him years ago. It can't be a coincidence that he was murdered right after that psychopathic hitman started hanging around Theon!_ Nothing seemed to help. He stood and began to trudge back to the car with a sick heart, hoping Theon was already in the body bag. As he got closer he heard the trunk slam, thank Christ.

When he got in sight of the car, he didn't see his hired gun anywhere. Robb started to feel nervous. He heard a small branch snap somewhere in the trees in front of him. He backed away from the sound and reached underneath his shirt and jacket for his .45. He clicked off the safety and rested his finger flatly alongside the trigger. He slowly walked towards the car, holding the gun low with both hands.

Bushes crunched ahead, closer now. Robb looked around then started backing away from the movement in the woods towards the car. What the hell is going on? He bumped into the car and jumped. He looked around and still didn't see anything. He hurried to the back of the car and popped open the trunk. He'd heard it slam after the gunshot, he was certain. He had to know it was over. Maybe what's-his-prick is just taking a piss or disposing of bloody clothes somewhere. There was a man's corpse sloppily thrown in the trunk. Robb sighed but felt no relief. This wasn't right. He took out his cell phone and unlocked it. In the phones dim light; the nameless man lay staring blindly, seeing nothing.

"Fuck!" Robb jumped back into waiting arms. One tore through the dark to squeeze his neck. Robb's Adam's apple bobbed against Ramsay's elbow as he tried to scream, but no sound could be forced from his throat. Ramsay's other hand snaked up his right arm and over his hand as he put his finger on the trigger.

"No gloves?" Ramsay laughed in a low voice right next to his ear. "Good." Ramsay squeezed Robb's finger, firing off ten rounds in all different directions as if taking down an invisible gang surrounding them. Then the impotent trigger only clicked. "I always wear gloves. This pair is special, just for you." Robb started going limp. Ramsay shook Robb's right hand, and the gun fell. Robb heard, "Gun's are so impersonal" before he was released and dropped, crashing onto the ground. He scratched at the earth trying to pull his body away but, like a nightmare, it wouldn't cooperate.

Ramsay flipped him over and landed on him panting. He licked his lips and swallowed, tearing feverishly at Robb's shirt collar to get it out of his way. Robb was trapped in his terrible eyes. They glowed with the light of a freight train barreling down upon him, and he was heavy in his sluggish body, stuck on the tracks. A wide, insane grin split Ramsay's brimstone face as he brayed with wild laughter. " _This is the most beautiful night of my fucking life!_ "

Robb started to yell "Stop" but howled wildly as Ramsay fell on him. He screeched then gasped and gurgled as Ramsay tore into his throat like a rabid animal. Razor claws on his rubber gloves let him open Robb everywhere. He drank in every second, every sound, every smell, and taste just as he had promised. The blood was so warm, thick and pungent. The flesh split for him all over, so easily. It was like a dream. Ramsay rubbed his cheek against Robb's as he gurgled and sputtered his last pathetic sounds. Ramsay savored everything, he wanted it all and more. He looked into Robb's eyes as his body started seizing, and watched them go blind. Ramsay tried to read the rat's dying thoughts, he was still so hungry. He tore into Robb's flesh with his mouth, enraptured.

Suddenly, he flew up to sitting, ripped off a glove, and tore open his pants. When Robb released his bowls, Ramsay shuddered and came on the gore that was left of him. "Oh shit," he moaned. He looked the mangled corpse over. "At least your back's intact." Ramsay didn't stop giggling like a hyena until the had Robb in the body bag he was kind enough to provide, and thrown in Ramsay's trunk.

The best part of the night, now turning into a new day, was knowing his Reek was safe in his room waiting for him. Ramsay couldn't wait to kiss his forehead and tell him he didn't have to worry about Robb Stark ever again.


	53. Sleep That Doesn't Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon sat hugging his knees and looking out the narrow window which ran the length of the front door.

The sky was turning orange and pink already. Why wasn't Ramsay back yet? What had happened to him? He pulled some string from his jean cuffs and wrapped it around his finger. His body still felt drunk, but his mind was painfully aware of reality's jagged edges, screaming sounds, and painful glows. He stiffened when he felt someone behind him. He looked up slowly.

"Why are you staring at the door?" Roose asked in his flat, unreadable voice.

"I'm..." Theon chewed his lip and shifted his weight, lowering his gaze, "um, I just thought Ramsay would be back."

"He's dead or he isn't. Go worry in his bed where he wants you." 

Theon lowered his head further and stood to leave. "Yes, Sir."

"Theon," he stopped and waited, "I'm sending up food for you. I expect you to eat it."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you." 

He tried to wait in Ramsay's bed. He thought Ramsay would probably want him to be sleeping there, but he kept trembling while sick thoughts swarmed through his head like hornets, and after a few minutes he'd jump off and run out onto the balcony. He'd wait, coughing in the chilly dawn until he became too afraid of Roose opening the door to find him disobeying. Did it even matter? Did Roose really care? His left wrist kept hurting him, bringing him out of his ruminations, and he'd find he'd been twisting the cuff until it burned against his skin. Could Theon take the cuffs off now? The bedroom door clicked, he flew from the balcony to the bed with two leaps. He was on the bed before the door opened, but what about the noise he must have made?

A petite woman in pink scrubs with thick dark hair and a tiny nose entered with a tray of food, then left as quickly and silently as she'd come in. Now he had something else to figure out. It was terrible! Would Ramsay want him to eat? Is he allowed? Where is Ramsay? Could he really be dead? He probably was, that's why he didn't come back. He said he'd be here when Theon woke up! A breeze swept past. He'd left the balcony door open! Now he had to hurry off the bed and close it, and it just seemed impossible. Maybe if he did it perfectly, made if he thought very, very hard and did it just right, he could make it to the door. shut it, and run back without landing too hard on the bed. Maybe if he did everything the exact right way, and thought every task through until he had the perfect answer, maybe then he could outrun the image of little Robb following him everywhere with his endless questions and crushing adoration.

When he heard a car pulling up to the gate, he forgot the plans he'd been agonizing over and ran to the balcony. He heard the gate rumble open and hurried inside, shutting the door behind him now. Should he eat or not?! Maybe eat one piece of toast, as fast as he can. If he wasn't allowed to eat, maybe Ramsay won't notice, but if he was supposed to eat for Roose, he can say he did. Maybe he can explain? He felt like a small child again playing the old game with himself; is it better or worse if Ramsay comes back now?

He felt the garage door opened and then shut. He crawled to the foot of the bed and held onto the smooth, curving rails. He heard men talking. He couldn't hear well enough to be sure it was Ramsay. What if it's just someone coming to say he'd been killed trying to protect Theon? Heavy footsteps ascended the stairs. Is it Roose coming to say his son is dead and it's all Theon's fault? He decided it would be better if Ramsay back now, even if he is very upset. 

Ramsay threw open the door, not looking angry at all. He smiled at Theon. Theon tried to smile back, but realized he was grinning already. "Why are you crying, stupid?"

"I'm not," Theon swallowed and blinked. "What happened to you?!"

"What?" Ramsay threw his dufflebag on the floor and went to the bathroom. "Oh, yeah." He called out after looking in the mirror. "I'll take a shower soon." He came back and started pulling his clothes off. They weren't the black clothes he'd left in. 

"But, your face! Are you ok?" 

"I'm better than 'ok', I promise," he laughed under the shirt he was pulling over his head. When he was down to his boxers he walked over to his Reek and grabbed his face with both hands. "Don't look so sick, it's all over. I'm here, and Robb Stark will never try to hurt you again." He kissed his Reek with a bloody mouth and pulled away smiling. "No one will hurt you but me." He pet Reek's hair. "Were you waiting at the door for me?"

Theon nodded. "Your father asked me not to. I didn't know..."

Ramsay pretended to bite his ear and laughed, heading to the bathroom. He called out, "Eat your food now. I'll be out soon."

Ramsay disappeared when the bathroom door closed behind him, but light fell upon the carpet under the door and Theon could hear him banging things around and starting the shower. Theon collapsed on the bed. He stared at the ceiling for awhile. He remembered it being riverrock gray, but it didn't think it was so sharp and clear before. There was an inescapable gravity to the place he once convinced himself he'd made up. He remembered to make himself eat. 

Ramsay came out drying himself and humming a song. "Hey!" Ramsay's looked at his Reek as though he was a five year old looking at a table full of birthday presents. "You wanna just fuck all day?!"

Theon almost spit out his food and coughed. He laughed, though it was horrible to laugh at a time like this. "Ramsay," he swallowed and cleared his throat, "are you _really_ alright? Do you promise?"

Ramsay screwed up his face in comical disbelief and threw up his hands. "Of course I am! What are you even talking about?" He crawled onto the bed and reached over Theon to steal his blueberry muffin. Theon kept staring at him intently. "Whah?!" he asked with a full mouth. "Ya shunna ade id if ya wanna id." He raised his eyebrows smugly and grinned. Theon made his little trying-not-to smile. Ramsay pinched his nose and took his glass of milk from him. 

"You were gone so long," Theon felt overwhelmed suddenly.

Ramsay nodded. "Hey, you kept the cuffs on." He grabbed Theon by the roots of his wavy hair and pulled him into a kiss. "Good boy." Then he frowned looking at his Reek's left wrist. "These are too big, aren't they? I'll get you some new ones." He removed the cuff and looked at a cut that had reopened, then into his Reek's eyes. "Look what you did. Did you sleep at all?"

Theon nodded and felt tears rolling down his cheeks, one after another. "I did! But then you didn't come and didn't come, and I got scared."

Ramsay reached over his Reek to put the glass of milk back on the nightstand, and didn't pull away as he came back without it, but leaned in closer. "It's all over. He's not going to hurt you. I took care of it. Don't you understand? Why are you crying?"

"Did you hurt him?" Theon covered his face. He hated himself for asking and shook his head, like that could take it back. 

" _Hurt_ him? Oh, sweetheart," he grabbed Theon's chin and stared into his eyes, "I fucking _annihilated_ him. I murdered him before he could to the same to you." He leaned back and raised an eyebrow. "You were right though," he said shaking the half-eaten muffin at his Reek's face, "he was a filthy fucking cowardly liar. He hired some asshole to do it for him." Ramsay shrugged and shook his head. "So, you want to watch a movie or something and then fuck, or just like fuck for hours and take a break later. WHY ARE YOU CRYING?"

"I'm sorry." Theon curled in on himself weeping. "What did he say..." _Shut up! Shut up! Nothing will make it better,_ he snapped at himself, too late.

"What did he say?! He said, 'Fuck!' then, I think, he tried to yell, "Stop!" That's it. Then he was like," Ramsay rolled his eyes and gurgled, seizing, then burst out laughing. Ramsay sat up and poked Reek a few times in his ribs while he cried, folded over. "Hey! Come on, you like impressions!" Ramsay watched him crying and frowned. "You know what people's last words usually are? 'Shit!' At least, in my experience. That's it. There's no great philosophy, poetry or sudden burst of inspiration, just ... I don't know, 'Oh, shit!' and it's all over. Let's just have a nice day before I start retraining you. Won't that be nice? Huh? Don't you want a nice day with me?" Theon nodded and sat up. "Good! Cheer up then. Would you really rather it was you that died last night?" 

Ramsay started to climb off the bed, but stopped. He turned around slowly. "Hey, look at me and answer the question."

"Thank you, really. I wish you didn't have to do that. I didn't want you to get hurt or do anything like that because of me. It means so much to me that you want to protect me." His wide, ocean, eyes rolled to the bed miserably.

"Answer the fucking question."

Theon stared at Ramsay waiting for a way out. He finally dropped his shoulders in defeat and admitted his feelings. "I should have died with him."

Ramsay hit him so hard he fell off the bed.


	54. Goddamn This Noise Inside My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon rolled on the carpet holding his aching jaw.

"Why would you say that? How could you say that to me?!" Ramsay said somewhere above as the world swayed underneath him.

Theon held his dizzy head and looked up from under his arm. "I'm sorry, it's just so much! It's too much to understand."

Ramsay fell upon him and tore his arm away. "You'd rather die than be with me? I'm too much? _Is that it?_ "

"No! I couldn't sleep, I couldn't move, I couldn't stay still until I saw you again! If you died... I'd have nothing, _nothing_! But for more than half my life it was my job to protect Robb. I was supposed to die, that was..." he looked up at Ramsay with pleading eyes, "my whole life. I was supposed to accept _me_ dying, never a Stark child, least of all _Robb_." Ramsay only looked down on him with disgust. Theon lifted his palms, "It was my job, and I killed him to save myself, don't you understand? I just need time. I have to figure out how to live-"

"Shut up." Ramsay stood offered Theon his hand. Theon stared confused for a moment, then took his hand. "I understand now, you're fucking brainwashed." Ramsay pulled him up, turned him, and shoved him back on the bed. "You still hurt my feelings."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"Shut up." His mouth curled down, somewhere between a pout and sneer. He reached into his nightstand's bottom drawer and pulled out an x-acto knife. "If you take too long to answer me, I'll know you're thinking about lying to me. Then I'll use this, like we did last night. Take your old clothes off; I'm going to throw them away."

When Theon was undressed Ramsay bound his wrists to the headboard and sat beside him twirling the x-acto knife his right hand. "So, it was your job to protect Robb, and you didn't. That's why you want to die?"

"I don't want to die-"

"That's what you said. Part of you believes it, I see it in your eyes!" Ramsay's snarl sank and he lowered his voice. "What was your job title? Bodyguard?"

"No, I didn't really have job title."

"But that was your job, to be Robb's bodyguard? The Starks hired an eight year old as a bodyguard?"

"No, I-"

"I bet you did other things, didn't you? You said you translated for Ned?"

"Yes."

"So you had no job title; but what was the description?"

"I..." Ramsay stopped twirling, and pointed the knife at his chest. "I'm not lying! I never thought about it!"

Ramsay dropped the razor to barely glide over his nipple. "I'd think faster if I were you."

"There was no description! They just told me what to do!"

"Who did?"

"The Starks! All of them, all the time; even the kids! Even _Bran_ would snap at me! I don't know, I just had to do what I was told."

"That doesn't sound like a job, does it? How much did you get paid? How did they pay you when you were eight years old?"

"Well, you know, room and board and food and stuff."

Ramsay's eyes flashed and he smiled at last. "You know what that sounds like, right?"

"No... no, it wasn't like that."

"They kidnapped you as a child, after killing your brothers, and made you work for... food and shelter? They took things away from you too, didn't they? Like money your uncle gave you?"

"How did you know that?"

Ramsay drew a white line down his chest. Little beads of red popped up along the trail. "Do you think I want you to ask questions, or answer them?"

"I'm sorry. Yes, they took presents away sometimes. Mr. Stark said ... that's not where my loyalty should lie."

"Did you always call him 'Mr. Stark'?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever call their house your home?"

"No." Tears burned Theon's tired eyes. "They always said it wasn't my family, he wasn't my father, and I couldn't forget that."

"It wasn't a foster family then? It was child labor. You worked for the means to survive and you couldn't leave, but it's not like enslavement because..."

"I mean... Mr. Stark did give me an allowance..." Theon's wide eyes narrowed, "but anyone of them could just take it away. Sansa would bug me to buy her something at the mall, Robb would make me take him to a movie, Mrs. Stark would yell at me for spending money on music she thought was 'bad,' Mr. Stark would tell me not to spend money at clubs. I just freaked out at Robb one day when he said he'd tell his dad I was buying cigarettes. 'Is it my money or not?! If it isn't just tell me! Just tell me if it isn't and I'll learn to fucking deal with it, but don't pretend you're paying me then tell me how I'm allowed to spend _my fucking money!_ Don't say you'll fucking take it away because you don't trust me!' He never trusted me! Nothing was good enough!" Theon was screaming now as tears streamed.

He stopped and caught his breath. Ramsay was patient. "Bran asked me once why I hated them, but I didn't! I never did. _They hated me!_ They always treated me like a criminal and traitor and, yes, like their fucking slave! After Mrs. Stark accused me of doing drugs for a year, I thought, 'Fuck it, what do I have to lose?' So I started grasping at brief moments in shitholes with other fuckups when I could pretend I had a life I could _do_ _something_ with. I had to fucking taste something, carve out something, make someone love me before it was over. I never knew when it would be over." His features were suddenly pulled and broken by years of suppressed agony.

Ramsay inhaled sharply and felt an odd ache; that little heartbroken face was one he remembered so well. It was just longer now, made of different proportions. He even sounded like that little boy when the words finally came.

"I was the bad one! That's why I should have died- ME, not Robb! I'm the nothing! I don't have a mom or dad! HE'S the son! I'm the nothing! The bad nothing from a bad place and I WON'T EVER BE RIGHT!" His head curled towards his chest as he was racked with sobbs.

Ramsay slammed the knife into the nightstand, released the cuffs from the headboard, then yanked his poor, broken, puppy to his chest and held him fiercely. "Shut up," he said softly. "Shut the fuck up." Ramsay squeezed an arm more tightly around his shoulders and pet the back of his head, leaning his cheek and forehead against his Reek's.

He held the lost child to his chest. His heartbreak made Ramsay burn. He wanted to break something, to kill Robb again, more slowly. He needed to _do_ something! When he couldn't stand it any longer he found himself grabbing Reek's face and pressing their foreheads together. "LOOK AT ME! _I love you_ , you fucking idiot! Don't you understand?!" He shook Reek's face, and felt some slight shade of fear he couldn't name. He was trembling with need, it was all beyond his understanding. "Do you understand? Look at me, I'm right here! I love you, you stupid shit!"

Ramsay searched his eyes desperately. His hands vibrated against Theon's skull. Theon felt like he did understand. "I love you too, Ramsay. It's ok, I'm here too. I came home to you."

A tear broke from Ramsay's fire. He watched it from the corner of his eye before it passed his cheek's horizon. "Good," he whispered, afraid to let go of the face of the only thing he loved. "Don't bring the Starks and their bile into our home again, do you understand me?" In his low, gentle, voice was more comfort than reprimand. Theon slammed against Ramsay and wrapped his arms around him. Ramsay took that as a 'yes.'


	55. If the People Stare, then the People Stare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they laid together under lush covers in silence, even time couldn't intrude upon them.

"It's just you and I," Ramsay whispered, idly playing with Theon's hair.

"Yes," Theon whispered back. He yawned and curled a little closer. Everything outside these walls had burned away for now. He drifted in a profound contentment no drug could hope to mimic. Sleep had finally come to carry him away. Ramsay smiled at him like a warming sun breaking through heavy winter clouds. "Ramsay, I'm sorry-"

Ramsay put a hand over his mouth. "You keep saying you're sorry, I keep telling you to shut up." Theon shined back his goofy, lopsided grin. Ramsay snorted, his eyes looked sleepy and satisfied. "You're so fucking stupid." Theon just grinned wider and closed his heavy, red eyes. Ramsay grabbed Theon's leg and tickled the back of his knee. "And your face is stupid," he laughed while Theon thrashed.

Ramsay giggled while Theon was yelling, almost crying, "NO! NO! _STOPSTOPSTOP!_ STOP IT! PLEASE!"

"And your smile is the stupidest thing about your stupid face." He stopped and started leaning over Theon, getting closer.

"I hate when you do that!" Theon snapped, sulking.

"Poor baby."

"I'm serious! Let's go to sleep, please? I'm so tired." Theon felt Ramsay's breath on his neck and bit his lip, swallowing. Ramsay crawled on top of him and started kissing his chest. Theon grabbed his broad, hard, shoulder with one hand, and his dark, thick, hair with the other. His knee rubbed against Ramsay's side.

Ramsay thrust his pelvis against Theon's. "You don't want me to touch you?"

"Ugh!" Theon grabbed his dizzy head but couldn't stop himself from smiling with flushed cheeks. There was a knock at the door.

Ramsay groaned impatiently and dropped his forehead on Theon's stomach. "WHAT?!"

"I'm here to look at your little friend."

Theon looked around frantically for some kind of clothing to throw on. Ramsay took his warmth and weight with him when he left the, soft, plush bed and opened the door. He walked into the bathroom without even looking at Dr. Qyburn. Theon pulled the covers up to his chest.

"I heard you have injuries just everywhere," he said from the doorway. Theon rolled his eyes. Ramsay yelled at him to cooperate and at Qyburn not to 'be too fucking creepy' before he slammed the bathroom door.

Qyburn looked Theon over as he asked lots of questions. He seemed to be laughing though his face was grim. "Punctures on the left foot, lacerations on the wrists and chest, a burn on the inside of the right wrist, a fresh scar on the left temple, bruising and swelling on the jaw, eye, and _knees_. What exactly have you been doing since I last saw you?" Qyburn found it all so amusing. Theon looked away, towards the balcony window. Qyburn flashed a light in his eyes and asked him something about headaches, but he was distracted by the beeping of a truck backing up.

"Oh, no," he muttered and jumped out of bed. He fell and grabbed his foot. "Ow! What the fuck?!"

"I think your adrenaline is tapped out. You may start to notice that you're injured now. You could have just listened to me instead of jumping on a mangled foot. Come here and let me unwrap it so we can get a good look." The doctor mused dryly.

"It's not 'mangled'," Theon said under his breath. He swiped his boxers off the floor and struggled to put them on as quickly as he could. Then he hopped and hobbled to the balcony. "No! No! Not my car! _Fuck_!"

"What are you crying about?" Ramsay yelled from inside.

"They're taking my car!" He exclaimed pointing.

"Oh no. Really? Who would do that?" Ramsay said sounding bored. Qyburn talked to Ramsay in the room while Theon watched his car get dragged away again. He heaved a mournful sigh. He could almost hear metal bars clinking, rolling, and slamming shut in front of him. "What are you doing on that foot, you fucking idiot?" Ramsay asked, right behind his shoulder. He picked up Theon and set him back on the bed then stuck his finger in Theon's face. "Stay!"

Qyburn put Theon's foot on a towel and started unwrapping it. Ramsay sat on the bed next to him. "He says you'll need a tetanus shot. Uh oh! Are you still afraid of needles?" he leaned in whispering. "I saw it; it's really big."

" _Stop it_." He thought to himself how his stupid fear of needles probably saved his life. Everyone he'd known who'd started shooting heroin was in jail, rehab, or the cold earth within two short years. 

"Maybe it will get stuck," Ramsay whispered to him. Theon groaned and turned his head. "Where do want it? In your arm?" He made a stabbing motion at Theon's arm and he jumped. 

" _Stop it_!"

"In your little white ass? Is that where you want it? Gimme!" He stabbed Theon with the phantom needle while he wiggled and whined.

" _Stop, Ramsay!_ " 

"Oh, why? You gonna tell Father on me, you fucking baby? Why are you smiling if you don't like it?"

"I DON'T!" Theon covered his face in his hands. Ramsay tore his hands away and climbed on top of him. 

"I'll stop it if you stop smiling," Ramsay's face was curled up in happy corners. Theon couldn't believe how little he'd changed. His larger more squared features only made him seem somehow more himself. _We never were like children_ , Theon thought, _and we'll never be like men_. Ramsay pretended to stab him with a huge needle over and over along his ribs.

"Could you please make him stay still? I'm almost done."

Theon's face burned remembering the doctor was right there, scraping the ripped sole of his foot. The pain hadn't registered until now, and before he could linger on it Ramsay started lightly slapping his face. "Stay still! Stay still!" Theon laughed though he gritted his teeth. "Hey, after your shot you want a lollipop? Huh? _Huh_? You wanna suck _myyyyy_ lollipop? _Huh, huh, huh?_ "

Theon laughed. "Holy shit, what a line. Did you, like, get any girls when I was gone?"

"Uh huh." Ramsay wiggled his eyebrows. " _Jealous?_ You didn't answer my question though." Theon swallowed and looked towards the balcony. Ramsay slid a thumb into his mouth and turned his head back. "Look at me when I'm talking to you. I _hate_ when you try to ignore me. Show me," he ran his thumb across Theon's tongue, "that thing you did in boys' room." Theon sighed and blushed deeply. He started circling his tongue around Ramsay's thumb, pushing the twirling motion back and forth. Ramsay's jaw dropped slightly. His mocking smile finally left his face.

"All done. The debris has been cleaned out, but it looks like he may have a mild infection.  He has to stay off the foot, or the wounds may re-open. The stitches will dissolve on their own. I'm leaving antibiotics and instructions with you. Your father thinks you can take care of him. I'll send crutches." Qyburn stood and started gathering things. "I'll check on his progress tomorrow. Call if he develops a fever." He swabbed Theon's arm and Theon could have sworn he winked. He whispered something to Ramsay. 

"Oh fuck yes!" Ramsay snapped on latex gloves and came at him with the syringe. 

"What the hell?! Are you fucking serious?"

"I hope I don't slip. It's a muscle shot-"

"Oh, Christ!"

"It's gonna burn. Ready?" Theon squinted and clenched his fists until it was over. Ramsay put a bandaid on his arm and kissed him. "Good job! You want to go for a ride with me?"

"Uh-" Theon fainted before he could answer. Ramsay pet his stupid, sweet, and perfect head.


	56. Bats That With a Kiss Turn Prince for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Wait, Theon," Kyra said pushing against his chest, "I want to do something you like for once."_

_"Yeah? Get on your back and let me take care of you. I want you to come for me over and over until you can't see straight," he had told her in his lowest voice, with his most charming smile. She looked right into his eyes and found something he was hiding._

_"But I want you to come hard, Theon! Come on, sweetie! Just once, would you please tell me what you want?"_

_"This is what I want."_

_"But damn it, Theon! Will you open up a little?! I want to know what drives YOU crazy but you're always holding back!"_

_He got up to leave while she stayed on her bed, stunned. She began to ask what was wrong, but he cut her off with an apologetic smile, "I want what I don't want." He  stopped and looked her in the eyes, sinking in dull agony. Shaking his head hopelessly, he pulled his clothes back on. Before he left, he shrugged and forced another gentle smile. "I don't want what I want. You didn't do anything wrong, not at all. Just- don't ask again, ok?"_

_All he could think about was trying to clean himself as he left his best friend worried and confused._

"Hey, sleepy!" Ramsay said somewhere beside him. At first he thought the bed was vibrating or that he was falling. Theon sprang up and looked all around. "Wish I could be you, sleeping all day."

"Where are we going?" Theon asked, rubbing his heavy head. He looked out the window and saw nothing but trees and stoney hillside.

"Dunno, just for a ride. I thought I'd take you down the mountain a little; it's very colorful in the Fall." Theon studied him with a strange expression. "You'll like it." He raised an eyebrow at Theon who still stared dumbly. "If you're going to puke, puke out the fucking window, ok? She's my favorite car."

"I won't get sick," Theon said in a small voice. He looked out his window. "This is just for me?" he asked softly and stole a glance over his shoulder.

"Well, yeah," Ramsay frowned at him. "If you're telling yourself I'm going to kill you again I will pull this car over-"

"No!" Theon laughed. He laughed so hard, tears came to his eyes.

"I think I hit your head too fucking hard, you know that?"

"You did!" Theon exploded, still laughing hysterically. 

Ramsay smirked. "Well, stop fucking up." Theon grinned like the stupid puppy he really was. Ramsay laughed and pushed his face. "Look, stupid."

"Oh my SHIT! It's a fucking WATERFALL!" He looked back and forth from Ramsay to his window. "DO YOU SEE IT?"

"Yeah, you fucking idiot, that's why I took this road." The round hillside broke into steep stoney pieces. Fast creeks grew fat and thin again, cutting through the mountain. Trees got closer, smaller, and more leafy as they descended. "That's nothing. Ready? Look out the windshield." Ramsay said, calm but smiling. They cut a sharp turn around a cliff, and suddenly the landscape opened before them. A broad, dull green valley stretched out for miles far below. It was overwhelmed with trees painted in shades of fire. Rolling hills framing the valley seemed to slowly pull away like opening curtains as they descended, Smokey wisps of clouds caught the sun's golden rays as it started its long fall.

Theon gasped and lost his breath. "Oh my god," he exhaled at last. "It's amazing."

"Hey," Ramsay punched his arm and he grunted. "I know what I want to show you." Theon had never swooped around cliffs, shot up steep climbs, and fell down winding bends before riding the mountain's wild roads. When the sun broke through the hills and cliffs, it lit the trees in glowing colors Theon could hardly understand.

Ramsay started climbing back up the mountain, but it felt like such a roller coaster to Theon, he had no sense of where they were going. Theon laughed happily like child when the wind brought a shower of lazy leaves, swaying down all around them in brilliant sunset colors. "This is crazy," he muttered and turn to beam at Ramsay. "How do you know where you're going?!"

Ramsay shrugged. "We're almost there."

Now the trees were dark green giants again. The warm colored clay down the mountain turned back into black and gray rock. The forest floor was empty, but for the fallen trees decaying in the dark. Ramsay parked the car and walked around to open Theon's door. Theon looked down at the clean white bandages on his foot and up at Ramsay who was waiting with open arms and a sadistic smile. He lowered his head and sighed.

Ramsay carried him up a steep hill. Dusty dirt and pebbles rolled away from each climbing step he made. "Here," he said in Theon's ear. 

"Holy shit," Theon whispered. He looked at the landscape tumbling below then flowing out smoothly before them. "What is that, an abandoned highway?!"

Ramsay laughed. "It's a river, idiot. How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?"

"A river! I didn't know we had one!" He looked at Ramsay to see if he was joking, then looked back. "It's huge! I never even knew it was here! What are those white things? Pollution?"

"Pollution? Jesus, stop guessing things! They're rapids and falls."

"OH MY GOD!"

"Yeah. I can take you down in the Summer if you miss the water or whatever. It gets too fast in the Spring and after storms, so we'll just swim in my pool. It's still nice to visit though. Waves break on the river banks when the water's high. I like the rapids better though; it's always cold and clear." Theon stared into him with that strange, intense, look in his eyes again. "What?"

"You, like," his mouth hung open for a moment, "you, like, ..." but he couldn't find the words or even the right sentiment.

"I love you. I guess you aren't used to that, huh?" 

"How do you know me? How do you know..." Theon held his forehead. He felt swept up in things he didn't have the power to name.

"I listen to you and I remember things you say because what you feel means something to me. Don't you understand? You think you've lost all these friends, lovers, a family - none of them even saw or heard you. It was all one-sided; just a lie you were telling everyone." Ramsay set him down carefully. "You'll see. Are you hungry?"

"How did you learn to..." Theon's index finger spun through the air as though he was reeling in the right question. His mind felt like it was moving through thick mud. He was so tired. "Ramsay, I don't feel very good."

"I don't know it's learned or genetic, or what," Ramsay said looking out at the North as it lied quietly under his feet, "but anything you like about me is from my mum." He looked out for awhile then turned back to Theon. "Want some water? Or," he pulled something out of his pocket, "a snack?"

Theon's stomach dropped and soured. "Um, could I have water, please?" Ramsay smiled, but his eyes were dark. He brought the bottle to Theon's mouth and pulled it away when Theon reached for it. 

"Aw, you're making that little angry face again."

"I'm sorry." Theon picked up a small, sharp, stone and threw it over the cliff. He caught the water bottle just in time. "Thank you." Ramsay just smiled. They watched the sunset color the sky pink, red, and purple before hiding behind the hills. Ramsay told Theon it was time to go. Theon felt weak and ready for warmth inside Ramsay's car.

Ramsay stood up, waiting. "I said it's time to go."

"But... I-"

"I don't want to be late. Father is expecting us for dinner. If I tell him you made me late he'll be so disappointed in you." Theon looked at the black drop through the trees they'd climbed up through, then at his bandaged foot, then at Ramsay. "If you try walking on that foot, I will be _very angry_ at you."

"What do you want me to do?" Theon asked, trembling.

"That's a good start. What do you think I want you to do?" 

"I can't do it! Please help me." Theon conceded, holding himself.

"Better. I know you have the perfect way to ask. For every minute it takes you, I'm adding another day you can't use the floor after your recovery."

"Use the floor?"

"Wrong answers add a day; that's one."

"But you didn't say-" 

"That's two."

Theon sat there with his mouth hanging open for a moment. Ramsay tapped his watch. "Please, Master, please help me."

"Better, but that's three."

"Oh, fuck," Theon moaned, understanding now.

"Four."

Theon whined.

"Whoops, that's a minute. Five days."

"Please, Master," Theon dropped his head and forced the words out like bile, "I need you to help me."

"You're so very close, but I know you can make it just a little better. That's six."

Theon covered his eyes and moaned. "Please, Master," a lump in his throat stomped his words. The old pain Ramsay wrought upon him started to bore into his chest. " _Your Reek needs you_."

"Good boy!" Ramsay knelt beside him. "Just; _a little louder_."

 

 


	57. My Head is Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Where did you go?" Roose asked, surprising Ramsay as he carried his pet inside.

"I took him for a ride. He loved it." Though a trace of a smile remained on his face, his eyes were piercing. He turned to go upstairs.

"He doesn't look very healthy, Ramsay. Qyburn said he needs plenty of rest." Roose leaned down to look at Theon's half-conscious face. 

"He didn't move a muscle, Father. Don't worry."

"Here's a good fever-reducer and his antibiotics. I hope you plan on taking his temperature, if we have to take him to the hospital-"

"Yes, Father. I will, thank you," Ramsay snapped. He reached for the medicine bottles but Roose pulled them out of reach.

"Ramsay, while you were out did you close that bank account you set up illegally?" 

He tried his best to conceal the snarl threatening to warp his face and took a deep breath. "No."

"Creating fraudulent accounts is a federal crime, Ramsay. You don't really need a separate account, do you? After all, you're still just a boy." He stood up straight and studied Ramsay, putting an arm on his shoulder. "I had to pay Tywin Lannister a lot of money so you could keep your plaything."

" _I could have-"_

"No you couldn't. You don't the money or influence. You overestimate yourself, as always. Did I make a mistake here," he raised an eyebrow, looking at Theon, "or not?"

"No. I'll close it tomorrow."

"Good." Roose smiled slightly and gave Ramsay the medicine. 

Ramsay tried to wake his trembling Reek after laying him in their bed. "Hey, hey, try to look at me. Open your mouth, puppy. Put that under your tongue. Close your mouth, stupid." How the fuck did his father find out?! The thermometer beeped and confirmed his Reek had a fever. "Poor baby." Ramsay smoothed the hair in his face away from his big lost eyes. "Try to sit up for me. It's time to take your medicine, Reek."

Theon shivered and started but quickly collapsed back onto the pillow, white and trembling. "P-please don't be m-mad at me-e, I'm s-"

"Shut up, stupid. Do I look like I'm mad at you?" But Reek could hardly find Ramsay's face with his rolling eyes. Ramsay pulled the sheets and comforter up to his chest. "It's not a bad name. You have to learn that for me. I know you're so tired, you weak little thing. You need your medicine, don't you? Wouldn't you like the fever to go away so you could sleep?"

"Yes, p-please."

Ramsay pet his burning head. "You're always so polite to me. You never acted like a spoiled Stark or conceited Greyjoy for me, did you?" Reek whined, but Ramsay just rubbed his back. "No, shh, it's true. Those other names which never fit you, those other families that never wanted you, they don't mean anything now. We just have to clean the shit they left off of you. Don't cry, Reek. It's not your fault; you only did what you had to to make it back to me. You have to be retrained." Reek started weeping and shaking, clutching himself tightly. "Don't be too scared. It's not punishment. Do you understand? I'll help you through everything. You have learn to stay where I want you. You have to learn not to open doors. You have to understand freedom is a privilege I can take away. You have to fear saying 'no' to me and running from me. You have to know that you need me. You have to remember your name. Do you understand, my love?"

"Y-yes. Yes, M-Master."

"Good boy," Ramsay pet Reek's face watching him struggling so hard not to pass out and leave Ramsay, in spite of his suffering and exhaustion. "You are a good boy, you know that? Just because I have to retrain you doesn't mean you're bad."

Reek found his Master's eyes suddenly. No masks stood between them. "R-really?" he stuttered. His eyebrows arched in sweet hope.

"I promise. When I'm telling you want I want from you, it's not a trick or a punishment. I'll be very clear, and if I want you to play a game I'll tell you. This isn't the time for games. You're very tired, and very ill. If you don't heal like you should you could lose your foot."

"Oh no!"

"Yes. So you have to try very hard and do what I say, understood?"

"Y-yes, Master."

"Good. Time to take your medicine." Ramsay held out a small cup for him. Reek's hand rose, then fell. He looked at Ramsay as best he could and leaned forward. "Good boy, Reek. You need me to take care of you so you can get better, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Say something nice I'd like to hear. I'll get you a cool damp cloth for your poor burning forehead. I'll give you this good medicine and let you rest."

"Th-Thank you, Sir." Reek seemed to hiccup and whine. He shivered while his clothes and hair were wet with sweat. He felt so weak and disconnected but, still, it hurt so bad to say. "Reek n-needs Ramsay."

Ramsay hummed and kissed his forehead. "And Ramsay needs Reek. Take this. Did you swallow it all? Good boy. Get comfortable now. You'll feel better tomorrow. We'll have another lesson. I'm sure you'll do so well for me, then we can do something that you'll like. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Reek nodded, fading out. "P-please, s-sleep?"

"Yes, love, you can go to sleep now." He didn't even have to tell Reek to ask. 

Ramsay woke up later that night to his father's cold fingers jabbing his shoulder. He was so comfortable wrapped around his Reek; why tonight? He growled and turned. "What? What?! It's on your desk, leave me alone."

"Ramsay. I need you a hunt a fox for me."

Ramsay sat up and stretched, fully awake now. "A hunt?" He looked at Reek curled up in a little ball beside him. "He's sick..."

"Qyburn is here. We'll both check on the boy. Now, listen closely; this one I need alive. You can do things... your own way to get what I need but its a worthless catch if the brain and mouth aren't in perfect working order. You have to go now, the window to catch her is closing."

Ramsay was still looking at Reek. He didn't feel much excitement. An uncomfortable tingling ran from his chest to his arms. "Alright. I'll be ready in two minutes."

 

 

 


	58. Ain't There Nowhere to Run?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon woke in at such a dark hour, it would be a crime to call it 'morning.'

He was dreaming that he was on a raft made from the long, thin, rigged trunks of palm trees. Trees that were warm and smooth to touch, which grew in white sands, and bent nearly to the ground in hurricanes, had been tied together with dried seaweed. He'd made a worthless paddle of palm branches and elephant ear leaves tied with moss and seaweed around the branch of a sycamore tree. There was a great ship in front of him, but it wasn't surrounded by sunlight dancing on salty waves; it was slipping away into a thick, cold fog. 

Asha was yelling at him, but he couldn't make out her words. He was getting colder and colder, but she was only getting further away as his paltry makeshift raft started falling apart. There was a snap and the black icy water took him down. It was quiet. He wasn't scared. There was net closing in all around him, when he heard screaming. He looked through the murky water and didn't understand. It occurred to him he was dreaming, and he opened his eyes.

There was a woman wailing then yelling in a deep unsettling pitch which didn't match her crying. They were under attack; someone was taking a chef or maid! He couldn't leave her screaming. She sounds like she's dying the way she's screaming! He can't leave her! He can't let himself be dragged away; he has to _do_ something...

He jumped out of bed and flew to the door, throwing it open. He ran towards the stairs and when he stopped briefly at the top, he saw three figures moving through the dark. "DON'T TAKE HER! DON'T HURT HER! DON'T TAKE HER AWAY!" He was running down but his foot wouldn't curl around the step correctly and he didn't notice. He only found the steps suddenly spinning around and smashing into him, then someone stopped the stairs by falling on top of him. 

There was lots of yelling. Northern men with their loud, clipped, English, hanging on last syllables when they want to push you with their words, gesturing with flyings hands, sounding they like they're barking even when they're being loudly affectionate. He was lifted and set on his feet. Dim light fell across his face, and he leapt, fighting for his life. 

" _God damn it, Theon!_ " He heard his name and and the narrow, blurred tunnel he'd been racing through slowly expanded. He realized he was in a lot of pain, yet didn't quite feel it yet. The voice whispered frantically, " _Stop it! Stop it! Wake up! You're going to get us both killed!_ " Large hands grabbed his shoulders and held him out. 

He stopped fighting and squinted to make out the face. "Damon? What's happening? Where's Ramsay?"

" _Look, you have_ \- He's fine, he's fine. Oh, here he comes, see?"

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" Ramsay stormed in pulling a woman by her long, red hair. 

"He was having a nightmare. I think he woke up." The woman screamed and grabbed her head as Ramsay's face twisted. "Hey, he just asked for you. See, he's right here."

"What? I don't understand... am I dreaming?" 

"I can't... I can't fucking deal with," Ramsay scowled and gestured towards Theon. "this fucking FUCK! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"I... I thought... but..." Theon's body started crying, and he couldn't stop it. He still didn't understand anything.

"God damn, Ramsay. He's, uh, pretty beat up, don't you think?" Damon lessened his grip a little, but steadied Theon as he nearly fell again.

"Clean him and put him in bed, if I-"

"I see you," the woman spoke. She looked like a sister-wife of a cult leader, but had still had a nauseating magic charm about her. "You are still a child of light. Christ our Lord is trying to protect you from the darkness, but you're turning away from His love towards this beast in human flesh. He's a child of the Devil! He will devour you, lost child. He will extinguish your light and eat your soul." 

Ramsay laughed and started dragging her away. "We have so much to talk about, you and me the Devil."

"You can't save me!" She called out. "Save yourself! God will provide! God will guide you!"

"Come on, buddy. It's alright," Damon said softly. His said tone disarmed Theon, and he let himself be carried by the giant with the boyish face back upstairs. "I'll try to talk to Ramsay. He'll feel better before he comes back." Damon shrugged and sighed. He seemed to want to say something else. Maybe he didn't know how.

"I thought you were really mean."

Damon frowned. "Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes worse. I don't really wanna... well sometimes I do, you know? It's like, doing horrible shit makes you sick at first, then it gets easier, but then, like, _that_ makes you sick. Then you stop getting sick but you still have nightmares and shit like you did... where you're like so confused and in this one thing that happened, I don't know, years ago. Horrible shit just, like, hangs around and pops out sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah," Theon wiped his face on his t shirt. "Did I fall down the stairs?"

"Uh, _yeah_ , you fucking psycho. I think it was just like five steps or so. God. I know you were in a nightmare, or flashback or something, but you can NOT do that. If you died at my feet, with Ramsay in the other fucking room! Christ! I almost wanna blow my brains out now just so I don't have to feel like that again," he looked down on Theon with both sympathy and a kind of stern reprimand as he entered Ramsay's room. He sat Theon on the bathroom counter and turned on the bright white lights. "Hey, look at that! Not too bad. Thank god for thick carpets, right?" He looked Theon over and stopped at his foot. "I don't see blood! Oh, awesome! I feel so much better. Um, you need help going to bed I guess?"

"I have to use the bathroom first."

"Oh, yeah. Go ahead. I'll put you in bed when you're done." Damon waited in the doorway but he faced the bedroom. Pissing felt so good; such a relief, so easy, so human. Something base but still private, still his. It was the simplest, most stupid pleasure, and Robb could never do even this again.

"Um, Damon?" 

Damon laid him in bed and pulled the sheet and blanket over him. "I'll talk to Ramsay. It will be alright. Try to go to sleep and, for fuck's sake, DO NOT get out of this bed. Right?"

"Damon, is he going to kill her?" 

Damon looked away. "I mean... look, she is not a good person. No one asks us to take out kindergarten teachers. We're not like terrorists-it's better not to know. Just stay here, in bed, ok?"

"Thanks for catching me."

Damon smiled and left. The light shrank and vanished when he closed the door. When his eyes adjusted, Theon found and took to pain pills on the nightstand and prayed that sleep would come.


	59. Need to Contaminate to Alleviate This Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I had a great time with you tonight," she said in her smooth and smoky voice.

Damon grinned guilelessly. "Yeah? Me too! Well, we can hang out later if you want to!" Kyra giggled and pulled him in by his shirt collar to kiss him. His hand was so large and touched her back so gently. She unbuckled her seatbelt and tried to climb onto him. He started laughing. The way he looked at her made her feel like a princess. He just listened like he couldn't believe she was really talking to him, and stared like he couldn't believe she was touching him.

She giggled and kissed him. "Slide your seat back, silly."

"It is. It's all the way back."

"Oh!" She ran her hands over the hard ridges of his broad chest, "You're such a _beast_!" she purred. His smile fell. "Oh, no! Not like that! I just meant you're so big! Shit. I ruined it, didn't I?" He smiled sadly at her. "Damon, I like you a lot. You really are such a nice guy."

"No, I'm really not." He smoothed hair out of her face and helped her climb out of the car. She paused on the curb in front of her house. He rolled down the passenger window. "If you ever need help, call me. Find a really nice guy, Kyra." He smiled before he drove away.

He was waiting in line at the drive thru in the middle of the night when Ramsay called him. He knew did the right thing. One small good act overshadowed by growing tower of cruelty. He looked at his large hands holding the steering wheel. Guilt never made them look more clean, loneliness didn't seem to either.

"DAMON!" 

"What?!"

"The fuck are you doing staring into space?!" Ramsay yelled, red faced from the basement door.

"Oh, yeah!" Damon jumped from where he'd been staring out the patio doors and ran to the basement. He hated working on women. Luckily this one was a nasty fucking nut job. 

Theon was sat up when he heard Ramsay yelling. He could have sworn he could make out the words, but they just wouldn't come together. He heard the basement door slam and then quiet. He fell back onto the mattress and grabbed his head. _He's going to kill her. He's a killer. He killed Robb. He actually killed Robb. He kills people. He's a killer._  He rolled on one side then the other. His racing thoughts just kept repeating.

"So, what number should we start at? Do you have any ideas?" Ramsay asked in a friendly voice, slowly pacing back and forth under the flourescent light. 

"666 is your number." She answered with the absolute certainty which only the insane and deeply religious possess. 

"Six hundred sixty six dollars?" He winced dramatically. "Wow, that's not very much. Oh, my friend came to play. Thanks for fucking joining me, buddy. She doesn't think he'd even pay a thousand. I guess it was a waste. You told me she was worth something, so you fucking off her and deal with the body."

"No, whoa, we don't have to kill her! He'd pay, like, a million! Just fucking ask. She's like his number two, really!"

"You wasted my fucking time and made me take a risk for nothing. I'm going to bed. She's just some fucking lunatic; listen to her babbling!" Ramsay shook his head in disgust and sank back into the darkness from which he came.

"I am the sanest person you'll ever see. I am here for a very special mission. You want money? That's what you want? Stannis will pay for my release. It's vital that I continue my work for him. We have a mission. You're lumbering sodomite lackey is right."

"WHAT?!" Damon exploded.

Ramsay laughed, holding his chest and sinking onto the stairs. "Wanna kill her now? Huh?"

"Yeah, fuck it. She's insane."

"No! This boy follows you, doesn't he? You've bought his soul with earthly goods. You've given him money, a car, you helped people close to him and even bought him clothes you like him to wear. You see? God tells me. Our Lord Christ uses the Holy Spirit to talk to me. I am important to Stannis Baratheon and he will give you enough money to meet your bodily desires, but know it will only further indebt you to Satan."

"My father?" Ramsay's laughed. His voice was closer in the dark. "Why should we believe the ranting of a deranged bag woman? Do you want to fuck her first or are you my godless sodomite lackey after all?"

"No! Just do a search on the internet! You'll see I'm the spiritual advisor to his wife-"

"Fuck his stuttering, dry husk of batshit wife! Everyone knows that marriage is a sham."

"I am the power behind him. I use the gift of hearing the Holy Spirit, which Jesus Christ-"

"Prove it." Ramsay stepped into the light, pulling behind him a metal trolley. It high pitched squealing finally stopped when it came to rest before her. He pulled a long knife out of an open drawer. When he spun it in his hand, light flashed on its surface. "You're boring me, and I don't believe a word you're saying."

"I'm going to help him get the become governor. Then things are going to change. A new righteous wind will sweep down upon our sisters and brothers."

"Bullshit. I'm going to start by cutting that floor-sweeping skirt. I bet it smells like cat piss."

"It's true!" she roared. "He's swooping in to fill the void Ned Stark left with my guidance. He'll have big oil, prisons, and weapons manufacturing wrapped around his little finger soon with my help, and all God's good children will vote and play nice with him. God has chosen him to lead, and me to make way for his righteous glory. Governor is just the beginning, and it can't happen without me!"

"See? He'll pay like a Lannister to get her back alive." Damon mumbled.

"I still think it's bullshit. I actually happen to know a little about Ned Stark. If you're as well-connected and powerful as you say you are, you should have no problem answer a few questions for me. If not, we'll play with you and pray over your corpse when we're done."

 

 

 

 


	60. There's a Devil Lying By Your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The painkillers finally started working.

It felt like he'd been staring into the dark, straining to hear anything for hours. He wished the television was on, but was too afraid to even look for the remote. Theon's body was sinking into soft sheets, but his heart was racing. He was excruciatingly close to falling off the precipice into sweet rest at last. Yet, his mind kept cycling through the last few days and he couldn't stop it. He rolled and curled, and stretched in bed, unable to stay still for long. His mind kept searching for a new fact or fresh point of view which would yield an as of yet unseen way out. There had to be some kind of solution waiting for him. There had to be _something_ he could do.

_No, I have to go to sleep. I can't do anything tonight. I have to relax, think of a time when I was happy far away from here..._

"Oh-fucking-just suck my fucking cock instead of prattling on with your fucking hysterics. Cut her down so she can get her-"

"I'm telling the truth! Just call him!"

"Your lies got messy," Ramsay continued. "Must be the blood loss. How could you possibly get private contract security force and weapons manufacturers to fund Stannis Baratheon? He's less camera-ready than Nixon. He has all the charisma of dry dog shit crumbling on a sidewalk, a miserable glowering face, and a bitter stick twisted up his ass. He has no money, no contacts, no lobby's behind him-"

"He does have a lobby! That's me, you blind fool! Surely you must know of the Light of Christ Baptist Worship Center?!" she rasped back at him, struggling to keep her head up.

"That fucking arena downtown? Six Flags over Jesus? Yeah, I know that creepy guy T. J. Meyer with the wax hair and his frozen-screaming-smile wife Joyce from all the billboards, ads, bumper stickers and infomercials. You better get into the heart of your point before my point gets into your heart."

"That's me! I run everything! I've had affairs with both of them! They would fund and endorse Hitler's ashes if I tell them to! Seventy percent of profits from the mega-church goes to a Super PAC which pays a non-profit corporation I have sole control of! These companies I told you about have good, God-fearing CEOs who don't want Pagan sodomites ruining our country and defecating on our children's purity! The Church's endorsement alone will give him the votes with the far Right and elderly he needs to win. NOW CALL HIM!"

Ramsay looked at Damon and raised an eyebrow. Damon nodded and said, "See? I told you."

"Those good Christian arms dealers and mercenaries are following her to do the Lord's work. Fine, call him."

"Let's get our money and arrange the drop in a gay bar downtown," Damon said with a little smile.

Ramsay smiled. "I wouldn't do that to a bunch of strangers. Let me ask one more question then. You said something about getting big oil's support. Does that mean you have Roose Bolton in your pocket?"

"Of course not! He has no moral standing. The Lannisters are in power now, in every way possible, so he's in their pocket. Bolton only cares about himself. He'll jump ship as soon as Stannis takes over. Why? You don't seem to like him."

"He's caused problems for me and people I care about. If you give me something, anything, I can use against him- I won't so much as stare at you too hard. I'll give you some pain medication and let you talk to Stannis when I call him."

"Ah! No one knows anything about him! I... I don't..." her eyes fluttered around frantically, "I heard his son was born out of wedlock and institutionalized!"

Damon choked and tried to play it off as coughing. Ramsay shot him a fierce glare which dove into Damon's expansive chest with a slam and quivered there. "Institutionalized?" Ramsay muttered turning back to her.

"I heard his brother died in his arms and he's had terrible PTSD ever s-"

"Fine, fine, yes. That's enough then, is it?" Ramsay frowned with a fire in his eyes and stormed back into the dark.

"Yes, good work." A disembodied voice rumbled somewhere behind her. She heard steps pounding up the stairs. A brief flash of light, and the door slammed.

"Now, call Stannis at once! I'll pray for you, that you overcome your sinful disease and Godless ways. You'll always been in this room; in darkness with-"

"Oh, just kill her already, Damon. We're done here." Roose murmured walking past.

A curling smile slowly crept across Damon's face as he reached for a bullwhip laying coiled like a silent snake on the trolley. "You'll never guess what we found in your trunk. Well, unless you remember putting them there. Wooden crosses and gasoline! Guess that horrible accident you had driving home will take care of the all the evidence I'm going to leave."

As Ramsay marched through the kitchen and foyer, his heart beat against the sides of his head. He was a fire, thoughtless, consuming, destructive, growing, mighty, cleansing, roaring, burning wildly up the stairs. He threw open the door. Reek threw off the covers. He blazed to the bedside. Reek flew up to his knees. He raised his hands, and Reek slammed against his chest and wrapped his arms around Ramsay.

Ramsay stood there stunned. "Will you stay with me now?" his stupid pet whispered against his chest. "Please?" The fire was extinguished.

"You're not supposed to touch the floor."

"I'm sorry! I didn't know what was happening. I thought-"

"Shut up. Lay down, idiot. You need to rest," he took of his shirt and jeans and crawled over his Reek, "if you ever want to get better. You like being helpless for me?" His Reek inhaled audibly. Ramsay leaned down and kissed his forehead. "You still have a fever? Damn it!"

"Do I?"

Ramsay growled and rolled off the bed. "You're taking your medicine and going the fuck to sleep! Stop with this fever bullshit! It's starting to piss me off, "he paced into and out of the bathroom thundering on. "Don't! Don't... look at me like that! I'm trying to fucking- you're! This being sick shit is real fucking manipulative, you know that?" He looked so weak and pitiful, it cooled Ramsay's rage each time he tried to reignite it. He looked at Ramsay with pleading adoration and need. It was making Ramsay crazy, but he was too weak and wrecked to fuck. Then his Reek smiled his stupid puppy smile. "Shut up." Ramsay gave him his medicine and pushed him down. He stomped over the the dvd player and put in an old show that little Theon with the big aqua eyes used to love. It was had little robots and a dude making fun of old movies. Ramsay liked it too, but probably wouldn't have if he didn't find it with Theon.

"Come to bed, please? Is it almost morning?"

"Yeah. I have black out curtains for when I work nights." He pet Reek's head. Reek jumped when he heard heavy steps on the coming up the stairs. "Shh, it's just Damon, you little idiot. I'll be right back." He stepped into the hall and waited. "Are you staying then?"

Damon nodded and tried to pass muttering, "Car won't start."

Ramsay slid in front of him. "I'll have someone look at it tomorrow. If you need anything just come get me. You know where everything is?" Damon nodded again. "There's some stuff in the mini fridge up here and you're bathroom has fresh towels and stuff."

He seemed to want something, but Damon was far too exhausted for games. "Cool. Thanks."

"Damon," Ramsay stepped closer staring up at Damon with his effervescent gray eyes, "thanks for catching him. I won't forget that. I'm going to get you a present-"

"You don't have to-"

"I want to, and I want you to appreciate it." Damon nodded. "See if you like the room. If you move in, a new car comes with it. There's a real nice condo for your mom and sister in a great school district."

Damon nodded again. "Roose started to tell me about it. I better shower. Um, I left the clothes and gloves in the basement with the body; is that alright?"

"Yep. You did a good job. Get some rest. Hey, you have to tell me how you did it tomorrow."

Damon laughed and rubbed his head. "Yeah, it was pretty good." Then Damon went to bed alone; just like every other night.

Ramsay climbed into bed and wrapped himself around Reek, who turned slightly towards him and whispered, "Ramsay? Who was she? What 'work' do you do? Are you going to leave in the middle of the night and come back with blood on your face-"

"What?!" Ramsay sat up. "I have blood on my face?! Are you serious? Turn the light on! I have to get new fucking sheets-"

"No, no, last time you did." His Reek curled up tighter and lowered his head.

"It's usually at night but its not that often." He leaned in and squinted trying to sharpen the details of Reek's face. "Why are you crying?"

"One night you won't come back. Then what will I do? What am I supposed to do?!"

"Oh, please," Ramsay fell back on the mattress beside his pet and pulled him close. "Who the fuck can kill me?" Ramsay laughed and bit Reek's shoulder. "He's downstairs, that's who. So maybe leaving in the middle of the night is safer."

Reek flipped over, looking terrified. "Would he? Could he, really?"

"Of course he could. His chefs cook my food. His armed guards crawl all over the estate. His mechanics work on my cars. He wakes me up at two in the morning and tells me to go to a dark alley and tackle a stranger. I'm like, 'Welp, if you say so...' he sat up and mimicked walking out looking happy then being shot through the neck.

"Stop it!"

"It's funny! Oh, come on! It really is funny. Reek. _Reek._ Reek! Come on, it's a little funny. It's a stupid way to die, right? I'd look like such a dumbass. It would be pretty funny." He tried to tickle Reek but he just looked more sick than ever. "If he was going to kill me, I'd be dead!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up and slowly shaking his head. "It's that fucking simple! I'd be dead, like, five years ago, by the way."

"What would I do? I'd be all alone." He was trembling now. _You can't make me need you and leave me alone!_

"I'm not going anywhere, idiot. Shut up and go to sleep. Understand?" He started running his hand all over his best plaything. He just couldn't stop himself anymore. When he'd finished Reek found deep and long sleep at last.


	61. Hanging on Your Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With every heartbeat his foot screamed in pain like an alarm clock he couldn't silence.

He was so tired, and the rest of his body was blissfully comfortable, but he couldn't ignore it any longer. He sighed and slowly sat up, then jumped back, hitting the back of his head on the winding metal behind him. "Ow! Fuck!"

"God damn it," Ramsay muttered. "You just woke up and you already fucking hurt yourself. Are you just doing this so I won't hurt you, is that what you think? Or are you really like a Detective-Clouseau-level fucking clutz?"

Theon groaned. "Well! What were you doing?! You scared me!"

"I scared you?" Ramsay asked flatly. He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Really? I'm fucking just _sitting here_ in jeans a _sweater_." Theon looked up from under the canopy of hair across his forehead. He was pursing his lips but his cheeks were high on his face and his eyes were shining. "It's  _cashmere_. How the fuck can you be scared by someone in _cashmere_?!" Ramsay threw his hands up.

Theon burst out laughing, "I don't know!"

"You should be in silent films, you know that?"

"Ok, I get it!"

"You could have some hilarious mishaps with Charlie Chaplin the way you maneuver your fucking body. Its almost amazing. You're going to sneeze too hard one day and take a sharp turn off a high bridge."

"No, I won't!" Theon laughed. "I don't even have a car! You stole it, again."

"Well, now you see why," Ramsay shrugged and got off the bed. "I don't want you flying off of bridges in it." Ramsay walked to the nightstand.Theon looked away angrily, but didn't lift his hand when Ramsay brought the pills and water to his mouth. "I haven't hurt you since you got here, do you realize that? Well, not _really,_ and look what you've done to yourself. You're never taking shop class, fuck! You'd come back without a nose or something. This shit," He gestured towards Theon's bruises and bandages, "isn't fun for me unless _I_ do it. Well," he leaned in close, smiling, "I do like you staying where I put you."

Theon started sinking into those eyes. They seemed to get larger and whiter. He felt that hot, tingling, dizzy, melting sensation again. It was different from the weight that burrowed into his chest but, both feelings Ramsay caused with a look or tone of voice made him feel small and lost and not very much like Theon. "OH!" Ramsay jumped up suddenly. "I got you some things while you were sleeping! You slept all day, practically. Look!" He ran to the door and stooped down to gather some shopping bags. "No, wait! FIRST of all; you have another week and half before you have to go back to school! They set up your classes on this thing called blackboard, it's like a website. I'll show you in a few days. That's the first good news! The second is your dad made Father your legal guardian. He's in rehab or... something like that... I forget. Your mom's in a psych ward and your sister disappeared. The Starks never actually adopted you- did you know that? I guess you did, right? Your name isn't Stark, not that it matters. It's all perfect!" He grinned broadly at Reek, but couldn't read his reaction. He looked stunned, maybe? "So... I got you some clothes," he threw four bags at Reek. "We can go shopping together later... I didn't get you shoes yet... what else?"

"Did..." Ramsay looked over raising an eyebrow. "Did Balon say anything? Um, you know... about me?"

"Uh... well, Father called him in front of me- big production so I know how fucking under his heel I should be for this," he said, rolling his eyes and swinging the last little bag around his finger. "He didn't say too much. It was a great deal for him. Father paid him, he can do what he wants... what's there to say? He wasn't very grateful, but fuck it. He's faxed over some forms and information, he's mailing others. It's pretty much done."

"Wasn't he even happy that..."

"He was surprised you're alive. I think he was probably processing... dunno." Ramsay shrugged. "Anyway, I got some more toys and I ordered something very special." Ramsay leaped on the bed. The thrown-away boy bounced and threw his hands out to steady himself. "I'm so excited! I want to play with you! If you're good for me I'll get you some delicious food. Maybe I can take you for a drive again, would you like that?"

"Wait," the thrown-away boy backed away, Ramsay followed to claim him. "Can't we talk for awhile? I have so many questions! Like, how long have I been here? A week?"

"A week?" Ramsay narrowed his eyes and smiled. "We can talk while I fuck you. I'm tired of waiting."

"Waiting?! Wasn't it just a few hours ago?" He looked to the balcony but the glass was completely blacked out by heavy crimson and black curtains. He started to feel needles in his tongue and running down his spine.

"Yeah, but, I've been waiting for _years_. What are you so scared of, puppy? You look like you want to run." The boy looked back and his head dropped against mattress. The monster was on top of him. He was being swallowed by his eyes again. He was _trapped trapped trapped trapped_!

"I can't breathe. I think I'm going to puke," he gasped.

"You feel like you're dying? You don't look very good. You look like you're on the verge of a heart attack."

"Oh, god! I am! I'm dying! It is! It's my heart!"

"It's ok, I'm right here. Does this happen a lot? Like it did at school? Yeah? Ok. Let me help you. Watch," he took Theon's shaking hands and turned the palms up. He sat on Theon's hips and traced circles on the palms with his thumbs. "Look at my eyes. Don't look away. Feel the circles? Good. Are the getting bigger or smaller?"

"Smaller."

"Good. Take a deep breath with me. In through your nose, like this. Hold it. Now breath out through your mouth very, very slowly with me. Ready? Good. Good boy." Ramsay eyes flashed. " _You're amazing, you know that?_ "

He felt the horrible weight impaling his chest again. "I'm scared! P-please let me go! Please!" Hot tears streaked down the sides of his face.

"Shhhh. It's ok, baby," Ramsay bit his lip. His eyes were wide and shining. He looked as hypnotized as the boy felt. "I'm going to try something. If it makes things worse, I'll stop. Shhh, don't whine. It's alright. I'm not angry and I'm not going to hurt you, do you understand?"

The boy melted just a little. "Yes, I understand." Ramsay's weight lifted off his hips for a moment when he leaned to pull open the nightstand's top drawer. "Oh, no. I can't, please." He grabbed his chest when Ramsay sat back on his hips.

"I have to try this before your painkillers kick in." He held up one palm and one bottle. "I'm not going to hurt you. See? I promise. I'm not mad. I'm not going to hurt you. Say it back to me." He tossed the bottle next to the boy and started pulling off the boxer's he had to remember to throw away. The nameless lost boy started hyperventilating, nearly screaming each time he exhaled. His eyes went wide and darted around the room. He started twitching and wiggling. "No, nooo, you're not going to run or fight, are you?" Ramsay said serenely in a lush velvet voice. He caressed the boy's face with slow, light, touches. "I know you won't. You're so good for me. Now say it. I know you can, go on."

He's shoulders eased their pinch a little. "You're not mad, you won't hurt me."

"Good boy." He ran his thumb on the boys bottom lip and pulled his jaw down, then slid his thumb in. The dizzy bliss swept the boy's head away, but his heart was still racing. " Show me what you do to make Master happy." Reek whined. His eyebrows rose, pleading but his body melted and his breathing slowed. He started running his tongue around the thumb. Ramsay lowered his voice but spoke affectionately. "You like to be my good pet don't you?" Reek was getting hard and he was too gone to care.

Ramsay swallowed and made a sweetly pained expression. "You're amazing. You're like a drug to me. You're so fucking...," he set his jaw wrapped his hand around Reek's neck. Reek sighed and rolled his head back. " _responsive_ ! Fuck! You just _REACT_ like-! It's perfect! I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now. You just surrendered completely, didn't you?" He released Reek's throat and grabbed his wrist. He held it up and let go, it dropped like lead. "Look at that. You heart flutters like a trapped fawn for me, then you collapse and melt for me. I love your eyes like this; rolling under heavy lids. You're going to stay right here, aren't you sweet pet?" Ramsay slowly moved his thumb back and forth, deeper into the wet, swirling, warmth.

Reek raised his eyebrows sweetly and rolled his hips. "Uhnf hugnh." When Ramsay cuffed his wrists and ankles, he only inhaled deeply and sighed. He let himself be moved like a doll. He took the gag with a slight blush on his face, neck and chest. 

"I love you lots of ways, but this is my favorite. Just like this. Now I'm going to teach you that it's not bad name."


	62. Only you exist here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stay right here," Ramsay said softly and laughed at his own joke as he went into the bathroom.

_Don't leave me here to think about things. I don't want to wake up._ Reek didn't have a name for this feeling. It felt like a mental space where he could rest and roll on warm waves of mindless pleasure. His Master must have made it for him, this refuge, this opiate, this addiction that kept calling him back when he should run.

Ramsay came back carrying towels. He pet Reek's head, adoration radiating from his giddy smile. He put the bottle on his own pillow and tossed the shopping bags across the room. After some lifting, adjusting, and pulling, Ramsay had three large towels smoothed under Reek. He went back to the bathroom and ran some water. The painkillers started working. Reek couldn't remember feeling better. Suddenly it became important that Ramsay was happy with him. The idea cycled through his mind like a lazy snowflake peacefully spiralling through a black sky. He felt a serene and deep contentment. Somewhere in the back of his mind Theon told him it was just the drugs, but what could that matter? A feeling this complete couldn't be false.

Ramsay came back with a small metal pail which he set on the nightstand. "I don't hate you," he said soft as the cashmere he pulled up and away from himself. His sweater landed soundlessly out of sight. It must be as weightless as Reek. His head sank to the side. Ramsay sat beside him. Humming a song to himself, he lifted a sponge from the pail and squeezed it. Reek watched how the water caught the light as it fell. He was sure he could see the grey of Ramsay's eyes, the white of snow and blue of warm, placid, ocean.

He could remember a lagoon on the far west side of the Key where little Theon lived with his horrible family. He had to bike over hot white sidewalks through the center of town to get there. He couldn't picture it anymore, but vaguely remembered little square buildings without flat sides or straight lines. They were pink, green, orange but mostly salmon. He remembered a the gas station where he got strawberry milk and candy, and the laundromat where he'd steal the quarters to buy them. He'd hide his bike behind a buzzing, dull green transformer box and walk through the trees. Pine needles would sometimes curl under his sandals and poke his feet. He had to watch for fire ant hills and always kept an eye out for snakes. The lagoon was surrounded by wet, tan sand. The water was blue and clear. Fish would dart away from his shadow then drift in separate directions. He'd just float alone in the warm salty water, watching the palms trees sway and wispy clouds pass slowly. He could feel the water now.

He tried to sit up and was quickly reminded he couldn't move. He saw Ramsay running a hot sponge over his chest. _Look at him, he's laughing at you._ _  
_

"HA!" Ramsay exclaimed, pointing at him. "You still fucking made your mad little face! Ha ha!" Ramsay slapped him, but mostly hit the leather gag. Ramsay kept grinning. "You look sorry, are you?"

"Ungh hmm," he nodded, all puppy eyes. 

"Don't look so sad, stupid. It's not your fault. You can unlearn what's been done to you. We have so much time now and I'm very persistent." Ramsay dabbed the cuts he'd made across Reek's chest. "Look how you're recovering already. You were always good at healing. You didn't make your mad face when I ran my blade across your skin. You said 'please' and pushed into it." Reek nodded and Ramsay bit his lip. He leaned in and kissed the gag. Reek tried to lift his head and follow Ramsay's mouth as it pulled away. He whined and dropped his head. He swept the hot sponge across Reek's arms, neck, and stomach in waves as he spoke. "Be good and take this. It doesn't hurt, does it? It feels nice. You only have to accept it. Stop fighting and then it will start to feel so good for you."

Reek sighed and tried to get back to that euphoric space he'd just been lost in. Ramsay leisurely cleaned his legs and feet. He dropped the sponge back in the bucket and pulled out a cloth, which he wrang over the water. They stared into each other silently while Ramsay wiped Reek's forehead, chin, and around the gag. Reek felt a hunger for something more. He wanted to be sucked into those terrible dead man's eyes, to dissolve into his Master and never be released. Ramsay smirked and took the pail into the bathroom.

He came back with fresh, hot water. He used the washcloth to clean between Reek's hips then his inner thighs. Reek rolled his hips and rubbed his heels into the towels. "That's a good boy. Don't you like when I'm happy with you, my sweet pet?" Reek rolled his head back and curled his toes when the cloth ran over his balls and cock. It was gone so quickly. He felt cold once it left and couldn't help whining. The hot cloth ran across his ass, then in between his cheeks. He moaned as the hot, wet cloth rubbed slowly up and down his asshole. He never could have it imagined it would feel so good. He bit down and ground his teeth on the gag's insert and groaned as it began to feel better and better. He whimpered.  

Ramsay suddenly unchained his ankle cuffs. "This will be something new. If you're very good, I'll take off the gag. Then if you tell me how happy you are to be my precious Reek. If I believe you, I'll let you beg me to fuck you."


	63. Living on Your Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay cuffed his Reek's ankles as far apart as he could to the winding metal of the footboard.

"Let's see if I can tell when I found it," he murmured, almost to himself. He used lube on his fingers and made more slow circles, then went up down with more pressure. Reek started rolling his feet, then neck, now hips, sighing. Ramsay never stopped watching his eyes soar wide and fall sweetly. He pushed in, slowly. Reek sighed and turned his head. Ramsay started making circles inside him as he pushed in deeper. He crooked his finger and Reek arched his back, gasping.

"Good boy. There it is. How does this feel?" He started massaging the spot he'd found and Reek stretched and moaned. Ramsay pet his wavy hair with his free hand. He inserted another finger and kept idly massaging. Reek whimpered and looked at him with pleading eyes. Ramsay smiled with closed lips. Reek started panting when the pressure increased. "Are you ready to tell me how lucky you are to be Ramsay's Reek?" Reek nodded, begging with every muscle on his face. He gasped when Ramsay pulled his fingers out.

Ramsay removed the gag and kissed him before he could speak. Ramsay forced his tongue deep in his pets mouth. When he pulled back, Reek followed and he laughed. "That's a good pet." He fell onto Reek's neck, kissing and sucking down to his shoulder where he bit Reek hard enough to make him cry out. "You're not talking."

"I'm sorry, Sir! I want to be Master's Reek, please."

"Good," Ramsay said kissing down his chest, licking his scars. "What's your name?"

"My _name_?" Theon repeated, not understanding, not wanting to. Ramsay bit his nipple forcing a wail to escape him. "Reek!"

"I don't believe you really love the name I gave you," Ramsay said, a soft, flat accusation. His mouth hovered just above Reek's skin as his mouth moved over Reek's right nipple.

"I do! Please, I want to be your pet Reek! I'm Master's Reek, please!"

Ramsay's teeth grazed his left nipple. "Who's my good little boy?" he purred looking up. The pain of humiliation bearing down into his chest was overwhelmed by the wordless bliss pulling him towards a ravishing little death.

"I am, Master. Reek is your good little boy, please."

"And good Reek doesn't lie to Ramsay, does he?"

"Never, Master," Reek exhaled as Ramsay got up on all fours to look into his eyes.

"And my good little boy would never hide something from me, would he?"

"Never, Master."

"Good, puppy." Ramsay lubed his hard cock and rubbed it up and down entrance to Reek's void, aching to be filled. "My precious pet, tell your Master who Cat Stark knows at The Reach?" Ramsay

"The Tyrells, Master," he responded, thoughtlessly.

"Good boy. Would they take her in if she needed them?" he asked, purring.

"Yes, Sir, I think so. They took me in for the Starks for winter and summer breaks." He rushed the words out, desperate to beg to fucked at last.

Ramsay froze and his top lip curled slightly. "Oh. _Did they..._ " Reek started to focus and was just beginning to build a panicked realization in his mind. "What a good boy. You're just perfect. I know you want to come for me, don't you?"

" _Please!_ "

"You may beg for my cock inside you," Ramsay rumbled in lush, dark tones Reek must be half-dreaming.

"Please, Master, please fuck your little Reek. Please let me come for you."

"Fuck!" Ramsay bit his lip and thrust in, faster than he had planned on. He strained to force himself to wait for Reek to relax his muscles. "Keep talking, baby. You say such nice things for me."

"I love you, Master. I want to be good for you."

"Good boy, that's beautiful." Ramsay started thrusting harder and faster. Reek arched his back and rolled back his head and shoulders. "Tell me who owns you, say my name."

"You own me, Ramsay. I'm yours forever," Reek panted.

"Oh god, are you close, pet?"

"Yes, can I? Please, Master?" he whined with raspy desperation.

"Can you love a monster?" Ramsay said like a winter wind cutting through a warm fall evening. "Will you still be good for me, even though I'm a killer? Will you love me and no one else? Will you come back to me, no matter how scared you are, when you run away? Will you still love me when I come to you covered in blood?"

"Yes, yes, it's too late. I do."

"Will you still love me when you hate me?"

"It's hopeless. I do still love you; always, and only, you."

Ramsay came hard inside him and fell forward on his elbow. "Fuck!" He slammed his fist on the mattress and looked at Reek. "Did you come?"

Reek smiled and closed his eyes. "I did when you did. Now I'm dirty again."

Ramsay unchained his wrist cuffs and grabbed his hair close to the roots. "You're not dirty, you fucking idiot. You're perfect." He pulled Reek by his hair into his chest and wrapped his arms around him.

He fell into another deep, peaceful sleep in moments.

Ramsay squeezed his Reek then closed his eyes as well. "I love you too."


	64. Everything is Groovy and Everything is Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek woke up nearly bursting.

He sat up and tried to rush out of bed for the bathroom, but his ankles were chained. He threw off the sheet and cover, which had been pulled over his shoulder while he slept. He scrambled to free his ankles but froze. Was he allowed to uncuff his ankles? Was he allowed to use the restroom if Ramsay wasn't here to take him? Where was Ramsay? What time was it? What _day_ was it? Was he really at the Boltons? Where was the redheaded woman? When would Ramsay be back?

He heard muffled shouting down the hall. He swallowed with some trouble and cleared his throat. "Ramsay?" he called out. It continued, one voice rising and falling in anger one answering rumbling out cold answers. It didn't sound like Ramsay yelling; who the fuck would else would ever yell at Roose? He knocked on the wall.  _Please come back. I don't know what to do._

There was a heavy thud against the wall then a loud smack. Reek backed away from wall. Something else was said in a low voice. He couldn't make out a word. "Ramsay?" he cried, louder now. A door slammed and footsteps came stomping up the hall. The door soared open and Damon came through. The side of his face was turning from white to red. 

"Christ..." he muttered raising an eyebrow. 

Reek suddenly remembered he was naked and flew forward to pull the sheet up to his waist. "I... I thought you'd be Ramsay," he said looking away. He didn't want to know what he looked like. He started trembling when Damon just stood there, staring at him. "I don't know what to do. I have to ... look, I have to piss really bad. Can you get him, please? I don't know what to do..." he gestured with empty hands, trying to illustrate his predicament. 

Damon kept staring. He looked like he was watching a car crash. He took a step back towards the hall. 

"Damon, please, will you get him, _please_? I need... I... _please_! I can't wait, I can't..." he wanted to explain everything; how he wasn't allowed to touch the floor, how he didn't know if he could unchain his cuffs, how he was just trying to make it through each moment because it looking into even one minute into the past or future was like looking into the sun. But he couldn't say any of that. He could never get any of it make any sense. He wanted to yell at Damon to get the fuck out and stop staring at him. _GET ME OUT OF HERE THEN, IF YOU'RE SO FUCKING DISGUSTED!_

Damon suddenly fell forward and toppled to the side before regaining himself as Ramsay pushed past him. He marched to bed. "Why are you crying, puppy?" 

Reek crawled to him and rested his forehead on Ramsay's chest. He whispered, "Please, I have to go to the bathroom. I didn't know what to do. Please, _can you make him go away_? I didn't know what to do. I'm sorry. _I didn't know what to do_."

"You're hurting his feelings looking at him like that. What are you so scared of, Damon?" Damon just frowned and nodded. "Why didn't you help him?"

"Yeah, I get it," he threw his hands up as if surrendering, turned and left. 

Ramsay smiled and unchained his favorite pet. "You did just what I wanted you to," he kissed Reek's forehead, "don't worry." 

Reek didn't remember when he'd started crying. Everything was so confusing. He just wanted to go back to sleep but he had to piss so bad and, "I think I have to eat something... please?"

"Good," Ramsay said gently, picking him up. "You must be getting better."

 

"There you go. All better?" Ramsay swept Reek up and took him back to bed.

"What happened? Is your father angry at Damon?"

"What? Father's miles away, he's gone on a trip. We're going on a little trip too. We'll get some food for you on the way, alright?"A trip? Reek felt dizzy.

Ramsay had dressed him in his new clothes and still, he was shaking and trying to catch his breath. "I need you to come with me on a very important job." Ramsay lifted Reek's chin. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Reek swallowed. His mouth was so dry. "Yes, Sir," he whispered.

"Look at how you're shaking. You know I won't let any else hurt you, right? Good. You look so pale, little boy. Is your chest very tight?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Let Master make it better, love. What would happen if you were out there somewhere without me? Who would help you then?" Ramsay asked with intense sympathy and concern. Reek clutched his chest. It _was_ terribly tight. He couldn't get enough air! His arms were numb and his tongue was full of hot needles; he was pretty sure that what happens during a heart attack. "What if you were out running in the woods and I couldn't find you fast enough?"

Reek grabbed Ramsay's arm with one hand and pulled at his shirt with the other. The shirt collar was choking him. The room seemed to shrink. "I-I-"

"I know you've looked towards the balcony and thought about running as far as you could already. I know you've thought about going to school, getting a ride with one of your little girls, something stupid like that. But what would you when your heart starts racing like this and there's no one to," Ramsay's hand shot up to Reek's neck, putting pressure on the sides. "calm you down. Just like that. What would you do without me? You don't want to die alone and afraid, do you? Why would you do that when I can make you so happy. I just want to love you, how can that be so bad? Shhh. There's my good boy."

Ramsay grabbed Reek's wrist and pulled him to the edge of the bed, then carried him to his desk chair. He sat with Reek in his lap. He slowly ran his hands through the wavy mess of hair. He watched the loose curls spring back after being pulled through his fingers. Reek's head weighed down more on his chest and his warm breath came slower and softer on his shirt. Ramsay smiled and ran his thumb across his toys cheek. "All better. I'm here." Reek pulled his knees up to his chest and held onto a fistful of Ramsay's shirt.

Downstairs in the foyer, Ramsay set Reek down sideways on a bench. "I still don't have shoes for you. We'll get some tomorrow maybe. I did get you this. Ramsay opened the hall closet and pulled out crutches. "What do you think?"

"Oh!" Reek's mouth hung open stupidly as he searched Ramsay's face for the right answer. "Can I..." Was he joking about not walking this whole time? _Of course, he was. Maybe I've misunderstood things..._

"If you're very good for me you can use them at the Stark's house!" 

"The Starks! Why?!"

"Mrs. Stark wants to be very mean to you. She's a very bad person. She asked Father to help her find and kill you." Ramsay frowned and shook his head. "Isn't that awful? She thinks Father's coming to give her your head right now. She thinks you killed Robb, but you didn't, did you? Turns out your father paid Robb's new bodyguard to kill him. I wonder what he wanted with the body? Alas, she couldn't be convinced of the truth and she's causing lots of problems for all the wrong people. Very stubborn and not very bright; guess that's where her son got it from." Ramsay knelt and put his hand on Reek's knee. "I need you to help me get some files from Mr. Stark's computer. That's all. Ned's bastard is at some Army base, the kiddies are staying with their crazy auntie, it will just be the two of us." Ramsay smacked Reek's leg, then picked him up. "Let's see if your key still works."

***

"Mum! Mummy! Open the door! _Open the door NOW_!"

"Ramsay! Stop it! Mummy's in the bathroom! Just leave me alone for five minutes! _Please_!"

Ramsay clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes. "Why?! Why do you have to leave me? WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME OUT HERE ALONE?!" He kicked and kicked at the door. He heard her crying and it only made him more furious. Now she was upset! He wasn't trying to make her upset! She made him so ANGRY! She shouldn't make him this angry! He only wants to take care of her! 

 

"Who are talking to, mother?" he asked flatly.

She gasped and jumped. "Honey, you startled me," she turned and lowered her voice. "I have to go make _my son_ lunch."

"Why are you in the laundry room, mother. Who are you talking to? Why are you hiding things from me?"

"Ramsay, stop-"

"I hate when you hide things from me. It makes me angry and then you cry. I don't like when you cry. I want you to be happy."

"Ok, take a deep breath, love. Did you take your-"

"Those pills make me stupid. I'm not taking them."

"Ok, come on, now." His mother slowly lowered herself to his level. She looked so tired. She took his hands. "Please, pet, you don't want to hurt Mummy, do you?"

"No. I hate hurting you."

"I know you do, sweetheart. Let's take our deep breaths, ok? I'll do it with you. We'll calm down and talk in the living room. We'll sit on the couch and talk, alright?"

"Ok, but don't lie to me. I can't calm down when you lie to me." He lifted his hand to wipe her tears.

 

"Who are you?! Who is this?!"

"Ramsay!" She came running out of their bedroom. "I told you not to open the door!" She recoiled just seeing the man. She looked sick and her eyes dropped to the floor.

"YOU!" Ramsay pointed and snarled. "You give mummy bad dreams! YOU HURT MY MUMMY! **I'LL KILL YOU**!"

"Ramsay!" She was crying already, what a horrible man! Ramsay knew everything he suspected was true when the monster smiled down at him. He couldn't wait to rip his long face and watch the features tear apart and turn screaming bright red. 

"Run away! I'll save you!" he roared at his mother and picked up the muddy baseball bat he'd left by the door with his wet sneakers. 

"Honey, stop," she said sadly, suddenly on her knee beside him. "This is your father."

"Why would you say that to me?!" he asked unsure of everything for the first time in his little life. When the man knelt down, Ramsay saw his own eyes looking back at him.

The bat clunked three times on the tile and rolled away.


	65. All God's Children, They All Gotta Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek was so disappointed when the garage door had opened to darkness. He didn't know if it was six in the evening or one in the morning with these long Fall days.

"I wish I didn't have to go back there," Reek lamented softly and rested his head against the window. He let his eyes wander slowly over to Ramsay. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything.

"I know." Ramsay punched his arm. "Going back to the compound, huh?" Reek smirked. "We can get you some kool-aid in the drive-thru."

"It wasn't like that."

"Yeah? What was it like?"

Reek peered over at Ramsay again, examining his expression before speaking. Ramsay smiled at him.

Theon's closed mouth stretched a little wider. "They were fairly happy, I think. I always felt like... one time I was at a store with a, um, friend and I had to use the bathroom really bad. I asked where it was and the girl at the counter just kind of pointed to the back corner across from the pharmacy. I ran back there and just flew through the door, right into the fucking breakroom. Two people were laughing over snacks at a little round table and another guy was just pouring coffee looking miserable, and they all froze and stared at me. I just apologized and backed out. I said something stupid like, 'Hey, nice store you guys have. Well, this isn't the exit."

Ramsay grinned, he could picture it so easily.

"Anyway, that's how I felt at the Starks. It just sucked because I couldn't back out. Still, they didn't hate me like my father did... does. It was only the second worse place I'd ever lived." Reek grinned at Ramsay.

"What about the Tyrells? Did you like living there?" Ramsay tried to smile.

"Well... I was just... no one really made me do anything. I was pretty much left alone," Reek tried desperately to avoid answering without lying. "At the Stark's someone wanted something from me at every turn... except Jon! I forgot! I never told you! It was Jon that got me out! We both knew what was happening. He," Reek laughed nervously, "he actually snuck me out in a suitcase and threw me in his trunk. How long ago was that? It almost seems like I never lived with anyone else but you. What day is it? When do I go back to school?"

"He did that, huh?" Different emotions swept over Ramsay's face, too quickly to read. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "Hmm, I'll have to remember that."

Reek's stomach dropped. He shouldn't feel this scared, nothing had happened, but the silence that followed quickly built a screaming pressure he couldn't tolerate. "Are you mad?"

Ramsay looked over at him and smiled bitterly. "I just wish... heh..." he ran his fingers through his hair and gripped the back of his head. He took a deep breath and spoke through clenched teeth. " _You could have come home with me_ , _like I wanted you to_. Then it wouldn't have been so _close_. Instead, you-no. It's fine, it's fine. It doesn't matter. Everythings fine now. You're fine, it's fine."

"He offered to take me with him, but I came to you," Reek said quietly. "Please don't be mad. I'm sorry. It was ... this is so much-"

"Yeah. It's ok. So, what are you ordering?"

Reek leaned forward trying to look at the menu. "Number eight. Hey! Could I get a milkshake?!"

Ramsay raised an eyebrow then covered his mouth in feigned shock. "A milkshake! Gee whiz! What's gonna come after that, Skip? Rootbeer floats! Yeah, get whatever you want, stupid. I'm sure you're hungry."

Reek kept trying to find a loose string to pull on his new jeans, but they were all bound perfectly. "Sorry, heh. I don't know. I guess I wouldn't let myself before even though I wanted to." He shrugged and smiled apologetically. "I got excited."

"Out of all the stupid shit you did, all the poison you threw into your body, all ways you almost killed yourself, you held back from _milkshakes_?"

Reek laughed. "It didn't seem very... I had an image to think about. Milkshakes aren't very tough, you know?" He shrugged again and bit his lip.

"Yeah, your image. Damon used to think you were tough." Ramsay smiled to himself and shook his head. "You must be a better liar than I thought."

"I'm glad you decided to come after all," Roose said with the same immobile face and low, flat voice as always.

"Yes, sir." Damon pulled his duffle bag out of his new car and threw it over his shoulder. He looked the doors with the click of a button on his key fob and the horn beeped. He'd never had a car that did that before. He turned to Mr. Bolton and stood a little straighter. "How can I help?"

"If everything goes right, you'll only have to help me with the body."


	66. Who's Wearing the Trousers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earlier that morning Damon had woken up in a perfectly quiet house.

Everything was so still and calm here. Everything seemed so expensive and untouched, even the sunlight seemed cleaner.

" _Daa-mie_ , were you dreaming about me?" Damon's golden eyelashes fluttered. He furrowed his pronounced brow and turned onto his back to sit up, finding Ramsay on all fours over him.

Damon's golden eyelashes fluttered. He furrowed his pronounced brow and turned onto his back to sit up, finding Ramsay on all fours over him.

"FUCK!" He shoved Ramsay by the chest with one hand but didn't move him very far. He was so solid and broad for his height that he was regrettably difficult to push around. "You psycho!"

"I am so fucking bored. Let's go to the mall. Come on! Come on! Get up! Let's go! Come on!" Ramsay was already smiling wide with sharp eyes.

"What time is it?! Christ! It's only seven, Ramsay! Leave me alone!" He tried to pull the covers over his face, but Ramsay pulled them back.

"I've _been_ waiting! I'm fucking tired of fucking waiting!"

"Go torture Theon then, shit! He wasn't the one working all night! Don't you ever fucking sleep?!" Damon put a pillow over his face and strangled its sides to keep his hands from Ramsay's neck.

"Not really. I don't need a lot of sleep. He does. He's pretty fragile, so I need someone else to entertain me for now." Damon moaned under the pillow. "Look how hard you are just hearing my voice."

"FUCK YOUR OWN EYE SOCKET YOU SHIT-SMEARED CUMM STAIN!" Damon roared, tearing up through the covers, toppling the giggling jackass.

Ramsay held his sides laughing like a hyena. "You are so fucking funny when you're angry!" 

Damon gripped his head and growled. 

Ramsay laid on the bed looking at him with a mix of adoration and malice. "Ok, I'll leave you alone after I tell you this; ready? Are you ready? Are you listening?"

"YES!"

"I crashed your car."

Damon blinked. "What? _WHAT_?! How? When?!"

"Ughhh, I'm sorry," Ramsay rolled onto his back and turned his head to look at Damon. He sighed and shrugged. "I'm just so fucking _wired_! Fuck! I just don't want to stop! I can't sleep! I don't want to miss anything! I was walking around and around this morning waiting for someone to wake up until I couldn't take it anymore. So I went for a run through the woods. I miss my girls. They'd always be happy to see me, they'd always run with me. I came back and showered and everyone was _still_ sleeping! I thought maybe if I drank a bottle of vodka I could relax, but it didn't work. So I cleaned the basement and sharpened my knives. Then I just had to get out and do _something_ , oh wait, here!"

He jumped off the bed, swooped down then popped back up and tossed a bag to Damon. "I got you powdered donuts. Remember? Remember that you like powdered donuts? Remember, Damon? Donuts?"

"Ramsay! What happened to my car?!" Damon threw his hands out.

"I drove it to get the donuts." Ramsay inhaled, tilting his head with some remorse. "So I'm giving you Lily. I know she's your favorite. The keys are on your nightstand," Ramsay backed out towards the door. "I'll be back in two hours ok?" He laughed and slammed the door before the alarm clock could hit him.

"FUCKING HAIRY ELEPHANT BALL LICKING GRANDMA FUCKING TORN ASSHOLE! _FUCK_!" Damon fell back onto the bed and screwed his eyes shut. Ramsay doesn't really ask for things. He never gives choices. So Damon asked himself again, how long would he try to fight? He looked around the clean, quiet, room filled with expensive things. It was a very nice cage but the door was closing. He rolled over and looked at his phone. His little sister smiled on the screen. He rolled to his other side and fell asleep.

Two hours later Ramsay ran in and jumped on his bed. "DAMON, WAKE UP! Get up! Get up! Get up!"

Damon groaned. "Another hour, ok? Common, Ramsay, you crashed my car let me fucking sleep in! Shit!"

"Oh, boo hoo. The brakes weren't working, and the starter was bad, and I'm giving you a better, newer one. Get up! Get up! Let's go shopping, I'll buy you some clothes. Damon. Damon! I'll buy some shit for Lysie, won't you like that? Does she need shoes or dolls or something?"

"One hour? I'll go, alright?"

"One more hour," Ramsay called happily, leaving. "Then we can go to your mom's trailer and get your things."

"I TOLD YOU-" the door slammed. Damon growled and punched the mattress. _I have to get the fuck out of here._

 


	67. It's Small and It's Mean and It's Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She writhed in slow, echoing, slithers.

" _Damon._ " 

His palm and fingers wrapped more tightly around the greased leather. The handle was warm, thick, solid, heavy, the missing piece of his hand found again. Red hair coiled, slid twisting through the air, and wrapped smoothly around her white corpse. He struck and the alabaster flesh opened in another burgundy slice. The corpse exhaled, stretching back. 

" _Damon."_

The hot blood oozed down it's cold skin. His struck again. His whip landed across her breasts. They opened in halfs; strange pomegranate flesh.

" _Damon, open your eyes."_

He looked at her face. His heart contracted and turned to stone. A warm breath was on his neck. A hand slid along his back. Another pinched the dead witches nipple between two fingers then flipped to show the red, dripping, many chambered fruit; a gory honeycomb. _Eat this fruit. Take this gift. Dine with me in Hell._

"Diamond?" Lysie cried out, unable to understand, from the top of the stairs. She was in her little princess pajamas holding her stuffed unicorn with the limp little horn, half-fallen across it's face. She held out a hand to him. He ducked away from the stammering fluorescent light. 

"NO! No! Don't look, Lysie! _Don't look_!"

 _"_ Damon." The voice was warm against his neck, lower, louder. "DAMON!" It buzzed, wet in his ear. He clasped his hand over the side of his head and rubbed. 

"What? What?!" He pushed himself off the mattress and away from the soft pillow. Ramsay was laying beside him grinning. "Jesus! You fucking creep! I'm up, I'm up, ok?!"

"Guess what?" Ramsay stretched across the black and grey comforter. His eyes danced like flames in a wild wind.

Damon collapsed back on the bed and rolled his head over to Ramsay. "What?"

"My father bought Theon for me," he whispered like a confession.

"Aw, hey, that's awesome, man." Damon smiled warmly, staring at the door. He rubbed his eyes. "Wow, you finally got everything you wanted, huh?"

" _Almost_. I had to go shopping without you. I just couldn't wait anymore, especially after I got the good news. I got you some presents, though. Hey, Damon, I know it's been a crazy long week but my father wants you to do one more job for him."

"Yeah? Alright. I'll get ready." Damon ran his fingers through his fine, fluffy hair and yawned.

"Damie, you know you're my favorite boy, right?" 

Damon grunted with a small, shy, smile and turned to look at Ramsay.

"Who's in South Carolina?"

Damon stiffened and his eyes widened. He sat up and pulled away. "What the fuck, Ramsay? What are you doing?"

The smile had fallen off Ramsay's face but his eyes danced still.

"Lysie's grandma is in North Carolina. She's going to take her in, ok? My mom's not... she doesn't want... she shouldn't, she can't- So, what the fuck are you, like, spying on me?" The anger in his accusation was deflated by the unreasonable guilt. 

"Why are you applying for jobs around Charleston?"

Damon's mouth hung open, bobbing as if to shake word loose from his skull.

"That really upset me, _buddy_." 

"I just... I don't want to lose Lysie..."

Ramsay's eyes narrowed and his face darkened. "She's not even your _real sister_. You've known  _me_ longer,  _I've_ done everything for you,  _I've_ helped her for  _you_.  _I_  know who you really are and _I_ still love you; _she_ doesn't even know your name."

"SHE DOES! YOU PUSSMOUTHED ROTTED-FLESH-EATING CUMM-SWIMMING MAGGOT! That's her _special_  name for me! And FUCK YOU!" Damon threw off the covers and tore out of bed. He stumbled forward when a weight slammed against his back and landed on his knees. Ramsay's legs locked around his waist. His left hand flew against the wall for support and he used his right to try to pull Ramsay off his back. He groped for Ramsay's head, growling, but his wrist was caught and twisted between his shoulders then pushed up towards his neck. "FUCK! STOP!" He felt like his right shoulder was tearing from it's socket. The pain forced his eyes to squeeze shut to curtains of red and streaming stars.

"STOP! STOP! STOP!" Damon tried to launch himself off the floor, with the image of slamming Ramsay against the wall over and over in his mind but Ramsay shot his arm further up his back and pushed his head forward into the carpet. "OK! _STOP, PLEASE_!" he screamed. He whined when Ramsay let his arm slide back a little and growled in pants to keep from crying. 

"So you're just going to _leave me_?" Ramsay asked coldly. "Were you even going to tell me?"

"No," Damon confessed whimpering. Then he snapped, "BUT _THIS_ IS WHY! I can move if I fucking want to! She _is_ my sister and this is..."  _my last chance to walk away with something left of my soul._ "I used to hate our work!" His voice cracked. "Then it stopped bothering me, but at least  _that_ bothered me; now I actually like it!  _I need it._ I dream about it! It get restless and, like, itch for it! People piss me off and I just see them as walking corpses. I see myself killing them while they talk on their cell phone in line at McDonalds. How can I swing Lysie around and hug her..."

"But it's too late, Damon," Ramsay comforted with a caressing voice. "You _are_ a killer who loves and needs to kill. If you ever loved me you should stay with me. If you really love her, you should let her go," Ramsay said softly and released Damon's wrist. They both struggled up to standing.

Damon rubbed his shoulder and looked down on Ramsay in disbelief. "How can you say that? The more you love someone, the more you fucking squeeze them. You're going to squeeze your new little slut too tight and he'll pop right out of your hands. Fuck, man!" Damon looked a little sorry and leaned against the wall. "I'm serious, though. I've been in school with Greyjoy since 5th grade. He, like, has a real long fuse but, for real, it goes to a big ass bomb, you know? He's not afraid of anyone, he's not even afraid to die, and he can't keep his fucking dick in his pants for more than, like, two seconds. I... I'm just afraid it's gonna go... you know, real... _bad_."

A smile slowly stretched across Ramsay's face. "You think people are like wet soap? I think they're more like insects. You take them into your beautiful home, safe off the cold, hard, ground. By the time the realize it's a web, its too late. The more they pull, twist, and struggle, the more they bind themselves tighter and tighter to you." Ramsay came closer. "Aw, baby, what's your real problem? Is this new insolent attitude just because my new little slut fucked your girlfriend?"

"What?" Damon shook his head and his heart started racing.

"Michaela. Oh, you didn't know? She said he's bigger than you, do you think that's possible or was he just talking shit? I mean, most men are somewhat in proportion, aren't they?"

"Bullshit!"

"He said she has perky breasts and little nipples. She loved missionary best and would scratch his back and tell him dirty things in a raspy voice while he made her come over and over. She also told my little slut that you were obsessed with me. Are you jealous that he fucked her, or that I fuck him?" Damon unconsciously tried to leap back and slammed against the wall. "Oh, baby, what are you so scared of? You look so pretty blushing like that." Ramsay traced a finger down Damon's heaving chest. "Did you really think I didn't know? It's ok-"

Damon slipped away and backed up, towards the door. "You want me to show you how much I love you? I'm gonna kill that fucking whore faggot before he leaves you, _just like everyone else does!"_

Ramsay's killing face flashed. Damon inhaled sharply with searing regret. "Wait-" Ramsay lunged at him, slamming him into the wall, then he backhanded him so hard, Damon fell over. 

They both heard Ramsay's name being called. Ramsay looked at the wall then down at Damon. His eyes and icy voice were completely his father's as he spoke matter-of-factly, carving a pledge in his heart. "You have no fucking idea what I could do to you, what I will make you into if you try to leave me. I'll give you everything you wished for in your darkest secret moments. You'll beg me to kill you, but death won't come to save you."

"You're fucking crazy..." Damon whispered frowning though his eyes were wide, wailing in horror. He scrambled to the door and slammed it, then stomped down the hall. He burst through Ramsay's door set on choking Theon to death. But he didn't march in on the smug asshole in bright designer clothes, smiling as always behind aviators, lounging and smoking while girls giggled and whispered in his ear, shooting out like bullets when someone pushed too much.

The boy he wanted to kill was already dead. 

 


	68. Watch the Whole Town Turn to Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek's mood plummeted as they descended down the mountain.

It was almost a surprise that the wealthy, pre-planned community of Winterfell still stood in the same spot; carrying on as if nothing had changed. He wished it was daylight so he could see people walking around, caught up in normal lives.

How long had it been since he'd seen someone outside of the Bolton estate? He'd lost all his bearings for however long he'd been gone, but the fever had broken, he had food in his stomach, and now he was back in the real world. He lowered the window so he could feel the air. It was humid and it smelled like gasoline. There was so much more here; broad paved streets, many colored lights from stores, streetlights, signs, the cars all around them, the stips malls lining the road, yet it felt empty somehow. A treeless flat grid with grey rectangle buildings. Where was all the life?

Ramsay watched him staring out the open window, chewing his thumbnail. "Do you think I should stab Damon to death or just shoot him in the back of the head?"

Reek looked over with his goofy sunshine smile. "You can't kill Damon!"

"Well, I don't want to but he's making it really hard to not-murder him."

"Aw, why?" Reek leaned back and fixed his big aqua eyes on Ramsay with sympathy.

"He wanted to move to South Carolina." Ramsay's nose and lip curled up bitterly. "He wasn't even going to ask; he _hid it_ from me." He tapped his thumb furiously against the steering wheel.

"Oh, shit, really? Why does he have to move?"

"No, ha ha. No, no, no. He doesn't  _have_ to move. You don't understand; he's trying to _leave me_. He was going to drop out of school, runaway and unload boxes for UPS or something."

"But," Reek asked softly, "did he say why?"

"He wants to hurt me because he's jealous." When Ramsay looked over at Reek, his eyes shifted uncomfortably. "HE IS! He was always my favorite, then I found you and _THAT'S_ when he started being an asshole. What? Don't believe me? He was going to kill you earlier to 'show me he loves me'."

"What?!" Reek laughed. "That doesn't make any sense! You guys can't just  _murder_ your fucking problems away! We need, like, a %50 reduction in murders."

"Shut up."

"I think we need to aim for for a decrease in murder and an increase in conversations for next quarter if our company is to remain soluble." Ramsay just furrowed his brow and gave Reek a sidelong glance before sailing into the oncoming lane to pass the driver maintaining the speed limit in front of him. "Did you talk to him about it?"

"Of course I did! I talked to him before I came to get you!"

"Oh, when you were slapping him around? That was your heart to heart?"

Ramsay smiled like he was selling something. "Look, sometimes you have to slap and slam people around to make them listen if you care about them. He's loyal, he's strong, he's skilled hard worker who never _used to_ cause me any problems, but Damon is not quick, you know? I'm not robbing society of the next Einstein. If he hurts me, I'm going to hurt him worse. I have to stab that into his fucking caveman skull before things escalate. I'm just saving both of us a lot of unnecessary suffering." 

Reek bit his lip and smiled faintly. "I'd tell you why that's bullshit but, I want to save myself unnecessary suffering-" Ramsay threw out his fist; it landed fast and hard in Reek's stomach. "Unf!" Reek doubled over and caught his breath before slowly sitting up again. He tried to act like it didn't hurt very badly. "What did he actually say though? Why South Carolina?"

"He  _said_ it's because Lysie is moving there, but that's bullshit."

"Who's Lysie?"

"Ok, so picture a yellowy, cracked, wrinkled, dry, pussy-"

"Oh..."

"-and it has grey hair, warts, and it's all itchy and irritated and dry, and it smells like cheap menthols and jack daniels-"

"Ok, I think I get it."

"-and it's, like, really angry at everyone." Reek grimaced. Ramsay made a squeezed up, bitter, grotesque tight frown. "'Bleh! I just lay here and get fucked! Bleh! I can't do anything but be a cumm dumpster! Bleh! I just lay here getting syphilis hoping someone will find my clit, but no one cares cause I'm leaking-"

"OKAY! Fuck! So that's Lysie?" Reek exclaimed grinning all lopsided and gripping his head.

"No, no, that's Damon's mom, Chantelle. Chantelle has a brother who's somehow even worse than she is and he dumped his fucked up kid at their fucking trailer park. Lysie has a disease where she kind of looks like an elf and smiles a lot and, pfft, I don't know! He just has this fucking boner for her. That's Lysie. I think she's going to die soon anyway, I'm doing him a favor by-"

"Wait," Theon gripped the sides of his seat and clenched his jaw, "do you mean... is he like... molesting her?"

"Ugh, fucking," Ramsay sighed, "no." He leaned back and slapped Theon so hard his head hit the door.

"Ow!" Reek cowered, leaning on the door and holding his face. "What did I do?!"

"She is not more important than me and you are not going to rescue anyone _._  I'm going to correct you anytime you make that fucking face." Ramsay's expression slipped fluidly right back into relaxed confiding. "Anyway, I only meant an _emotional_ boner, come on. Damon's not a fucking pedophile. So the horrible mom can't take care of the horrible cousin and they're shipping her to a, probably, horrible grandma."

Reek slowly sat back up and brought his knees to his chest. _Poor Damon._ Ramsay sighed. Something Reek felt, but couldn't point to, made Ramsay seem painfully vulnerable. "I'm sure that hurt your feelings."

"Do you actually think I have feelings to hurt?" he snapped grumbling.

"I know you do." Ramsay looked over and started shining again. "Anger's a feeling."

"Yeah?" He smiled wicked and bright as ever. 

Reek giggled and slunk down, against the door. His hands were poised to rush up and defend him. "Horny's a feeling."

"You give me so many  _feelings,_ baby." His hand struck out like a viper and grabbed the hair at the back of Reek's head. Reek cried out, still laughing, and grabbed Ramsay's arm. "We'll be there in less than twenty minutes and I'm getting real fucking emotional. Which feeling do you like on me better?" He started pulling Reek's head to him.

"Horny! Horny!" Reek exclaimed with his wide, goofy grin. "Ow! Wait, you don't have to force me!" He looked up with puppy eyes while Ramsay pulled him closer and pushed him further down. "I'll do it for you; I want to. Really, I want to make you happy."

"That's sweet, pet, but I _want_ to force you; that makes me happy. You like it better too, don't you? You have less than twenty minutes to make me happy. Then we have our errand to run."

 


	69. You Tear Down My Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This was a mistake._

The flat, smooth center console hardly peaked above the black leather seats in Ramsay's '69 Charger. There was no real barrier between them. Reek had to stop hugging his knees as Ramsay twisted his head down and pulled it closer. His left knee spun inward and landed against the back of his seat. He was yanked forward by the roots of his hair harshly and clasped Ramsay's leg to keep from falling.

_"Closer."_

Reek didn't feel charming or playful any more; he felt small and lost again. He tried to steady himself with the foot he had planted on the floor. He had no idea where to put his right hand. If Ramsay would just let go he could unbuckle himself and bend over, but he didn't feel his opinions would be welcome or end up making things better for him, so he diplomatically sputtered, "I- please, wait, I'll do it- I..." Ramsay's fingers started clenching tighter into his skull, "what do you want me to do?" Ramsay's hand jumped from the back of his head to his left ear. "Ow! Owwww! I'm sorry!"

"Don't be sorry. Lay your head down on my lap, and wrap your arm around me. I want you to look at me while you suck my cock."

"WHILE YOU'RE DRIVING?!"  _This was a bad idea, this was a terrible idea. Never flirt with him in the car again._ _  
_

"Don't you trust me, puppy?" Ramsay asked, honey dripping from his rolling words. "When I look down at you I want you to be looking up at me."

"Ah-" Reek whimpered. He felt the terrible weight burrowing painfully into his chest once again. 

Ramsay pinched the metal and tore it down. The crotch of his jeans split open to release him as though he'd sliced through hanging skin. He bit his lip and pulled Reek closer by his little ear. His ears always stuck out like they wanted to be pulled. "Look at you, puppy," he mused, looking over his Reek over. "Your ass in the air, your head down low; you must want to play with me. Use just your tongue first. Keep looking up at me."

"Yes, Sir."

After just a few minutes Reek's neck was aching from the strain. Ramsay glanced down at him with a sleepy, satisfied eyes and a lazy-jawed smile. "Stop. Rest your head." He let go of Reek's ear and shoved his index finger between his swollen lips. Reek swirled his tongue around it, pushing slowly up and down in warm circles. "Good. Do that. Go as deep as you can." His voice was harsh, almost raspy, like dry crinkled leaves in chilly wind. He pulled out his finger, rubbed drops of precum of his cock before Reek could start and slid his hand down the back of Reek's pants. 

Reek flinched hard, but didn't move otherwise. He took Ramsay into his mouth and tried to concentrate on making Ramsay come as quickly as possible so there would be an end to this. Ramsay started making his own circles; slowly getting smaller, and increasing in pressure. Reek hummed around Ramsay's dick, to his embarrassment. 

"Keep your eyes open and on me. Go deeper for me. Keep doing that, that's good. A little faster. Good boy." 

"Oh!" Reek curled in towards Ramsay's stomach when the finger probed inside. He gagged and pulled back, then tried again more slowly. 

"Good boy. Keep going. Look at me." Reek's eyes bulged a little and his eyebrows rose like he was praying when Ramsay found his prostate. "I'll show you the rhythm I want, understand?"

"Mmmhmm."  _How did I end up like this? Sex was kingdom to rule with a cavalier ease; what am I now? A hungry bitch. A needy fuck toy._ "Unggh!" He hated what Ramsay was doing to him; it was incredible. It wasn't just a itch being scratched or pressure being released, it was waves of pleasure, a dizzy euphoric ride that keep increasing in intensity. He couldn't keep his head, he couldn't keep control, he'd lost all power to this terrible hard drug of a human. The pace increased, his mind soared in a rush of sparkling endorphins, and none of the past, the present, or even having control mattered any more. 

He started moaning and wanting everything desperately. Ramsay purred sweet things in a deep velvet tones. It was like read every silent confession Reek scrolled in the back, dark corners of his mind. "You are mine, why does it keep surprising you? I own you through pleasure and pain. I'll take this pretty body when I want it, because it's my body. This is my mouth and my hole to fuck however and whenever I want to, pet."

Reek's jaw started hurting, even through the intense shuddering, rolling waves of dazzling pleasure. Ramsay slipped his hand back out of Reek's pants and grabbed the back of his head. He slammed Reek's head against him. "You can close your eyes now. It's alright." He pulled Reek's head back by the base of his hair and burst with hot seed onto his face. He rubbed Reek's back lovingly. "You can try to lay down, love, but don't move your head or hands. You were perfect, pet."

"Uh, thank you, Sir," Reek stammered softly. 

"Oh shit!" Ramsay held Reek's head against his stomach and slammed on the brakes while turning, causing the car to spin out. Reek screamed and jumped up, clutching Ramsay's chest. "Ha! You moved!"

"What?" Reek looked around, stunned. They were back at the Stark's house; all empty, dark, and covered with leaves. Nothing was ahead of them but the yawning driveway. Reek cried out and started rubbing his eyes frantically. "Fuck! Its burning my eyes! Do you come hotsauce?!"

Ramsay hit his head against the steering wheel. "You ruined the moment."

"Ohhhhh, ow!" Reek started crying with pain and frustration. He was still seething with thwarted lust and overcome with the turmoil of hating what he wanted. "You keep hitting my head!" he sobbed pitifully. " _Please_ , don't hit my face all the time, _please_?"

"Well, the tears will clean your eyes so my mean semen don't raze your fucking eyeballs, you big baby."

"I-" but Reek caught himself, realizing it'd be better not to protest. He leaned cautiously against Ramsay's chest. "Please don't hurt me. I promise to be good."

"Of course you will. You are a good little boy. I need you to be brave and keep your mouth shut now, ok?"

Reek pulled back.  _Brave?_

"Two little Stark boys and their Auntie may be here. Just rest that pretty mouth, do what I tell you to and I'll take care of everything else."

"I can't... you want me- how can I go in like this?"

"Well, I was going to let your use those crutches since you've been so good since you came home but, I can carry you if you're not ready for walking."

 

 

 

 


	70. Wondered What the Hell I Had Been Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay slipped on soft leather gloves before popping the trunk and sliding out of the car.

When he opened Reek's door he had the crutches in one hand. "Ready?"

The walk up was at least slowed down by Reek adjusting to using crutches. Ramsay's phone rang. He pulled the phone from the back of his jeans while Reek struggled to catch up. "Oh! Look!" He held his phone out for Reek to see. "Who's calling me to say he's sorry? Fuck him. He can wait."

"Shouldn't we be quiet?" Reek whispered. "Hey, I can get us in through the back of the garage."

"What did I _just_ tell you?"Reek nodded. He rubbed his stinging eye against his shoulder. The house seemed smaller. He'd never seen it dark, silent, and empty as this.

He had so hoped it wouldn't have taken longer to get to the front door, or that something would have stopped them. Ramsay knocked, smashing any hope that they would sneak in and out as he did. Ramsay's phone rang again. This time he stepped aside and lowered his voice to answer it. "Yes? What?" The door opened, but no light fell upon them. "I'm just out with-" Ramsay sensed what was happening before he actually understood.

Auburn hair was pulled and twisted back away from a pale ghost of a face. Her eyes shined without color. "Where is he?" She slowly raised an unsteady hand. Theon shook his head, his jaw hung stupidly open. " _Where is my son_?"

"I didn't-" there was pop that made him flinch and she disappeared into the dark. High pitched ringing reverberated in his ears before slowly fading. He was able to force his eyes to crawl back to Ramsay, but otherwise felt like stone.

"Whoops," Ramsay shrugged grimacing. He leaned into the doorway, stared down, and swayed back onto the stoop sighing. "I may have miscalculated." He dropped the gun in the bush beside him. He hung his elbow overtop of his head and slumped against the house. " _Fuck!_ Just wait in the car. I'll be right back." Theon keep staring from his statue pose. "Hey," Ramsay grabbed his face and spoke firmly. "Are you going to do that for me?" Theon nodded and tried to get his breathing carcass to move again.

When he got the car, he wasn't sure if hours or seconds had past. It almost felt like he was on acid. Maybe he was, that would be ok. Suddenly the car seemed like an impossible enigma. How could he get the crutches in the trunk and himself back in the passengers seat? Should he get in the drivers seat and start the car? That's what a hero would do in the movie, but he heard no soundtrack and held no keys. 

Somehow, sometime later, Ramsay swung open his door and jumped in, tossing some things in the back. The car roared when it started and they tore away. Ramsay kept looking over at him. "Welp," his eyes widened and rolled, "that's embarrassing, huh?"

Theon knew he should say something. "I popped the trunk and put the crutches in. I kind of hopped back..."

"Oh, yeah, you're fine. Look, I didn't mean for that to happen, ok? It kind of worked out in a way, though. I actually killed her with Robb's H&K 9mm. It should still have his prints on it. After you escaped him in the park and he killed that security guard that witnessed everything and threatened to go to the police, he must have lured his mother back and killer her. Maybe she had something to do with Ned's death... maybe he's just a psycho killer on the loose."

" _What?_ " Theon rubbed his temples.

"I thought she'd be at The Reach, first of all."

"I don't-"

"Secondly, I was sure she wasn't talking to her sister, and lastly, she should have been dead _before_ I even called."

"You called? Who?"

"Her crazy sister, Lysa. I just called to say we were coming to get your things. Robb must have told Cat about me. Father said, 'Just leave it to me and don't break your toy.' What a fuck up, right?" Ramsay kept looking back at him at the end of every sentence. 

"But why would you do... you wanted the Stark kids there? I almost died for your ... what? Joke?"

"Almost died!" Ramsay swallowed, though he kept smiling. "That's real fucking dramatic. Just shut up, alright? Let me think. We don't have to worry about the police or anything, that worked out well. I'm still not sure what to tell Father... so just shut the fuck up," he pulled Theon close and held him with a heavy arm, "and let me figure something out."

Ramsay could hear his father already, _Overestimating ourselves again?_ Not again. Never with him again. 


	71. Once I Ran to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon sat stupefied as they drove through the empty night.

They had just left Winterfell when Ramsay pulled over at a gas station. He took the keys out of the ignition before heading inside. The locks slid and clicked together as the horn beeped. Theon watched him walk away under white halos with his hands in his pockets, still singing to himself under his breath. He flew through the gas station on soft, unseen wings. He leaned across the counter and smiled at the woman waiting on him. They both laughed. He had dimples when he laughed.

Theon looked as his hands, hoping to ground himself with something constant to him. He teetered on believing it hadn't happened, and knew he was losing his mind whether it had or not. She'd just fallen back into blackness, and that was it. How could it happen in one effortless instant? How could they just walk away? No one cried for her, no one screamed, no sirens came wailing to paint the lonely house in red and blue flashes; just a high-pitched ringing in his ears, and even that was gone now.

"Hey," the car shook for a second when Ramsay jumped in and slammed the door. "Here's some gobstoppers for you. Remember? You like those!" Ramsay opened a movie theatre sized bag of M&Ms and poured them into his mouth like he was drinking them. Theon stared dumbly at the bright cardboard box in his lap. He didn't understand what this meant either. " _You're welcome_ , fuckface." He smiled as he peeled out.

"What?" The word slipped out like nothing. A ghost had simply exhaled inside him.

"What's a matter with you?!" Ramsay said through a mouth full of chocolate. "You didn't even like her, she wanted you dead, what the fuck is your problem?!"

"What?" Theon rubbed his forehead and squinted at Ramsay. "I just... I don't understand. I don't understand anything."

"I just told you what happened, idiot. Alright? Cheer up! You know, it's actually kind of funny."

"Yeah, you seem to think so. The gun wasn't pointed at you though."

"I've had plenty of guns pointed at me and I never cried about it, you fucking baby. Hold on-" he shifted and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. "I'm coming as fast as I can. Of course. Yeah, I know exactly where it is. Bye."

"I'm _not_ crying. I don't understand," Theon said, a little louder than before.

"What?!" Ramsay threw his hand up, grinning.

"Why would you call Lysa? Why did you have to bring me? What was the point of ... _that_? To trap Mrs. Stark?!"

"No, no, no! Father should have killed her long _before_ we showed up. She must have been tipped off-"

"Because her sister naturally told her I'd be coming into _her house_ to _take things from it!_ WHY would she meet your father, who was supposed to have my head in a dufflebag, if I was walking into her house with my HEAD ON MY SHOULDERS?!"

"First of all, don't fucking yell at me. Secondly, she was supposed to be dead _before_ I called the Aunt."

"WHY WOULD YOU CALL LYSA AT ALL?!"

"Ok, I don't have to explain _shit_ to you but, I actually did it, just in case, _for us_. If anyone else wanted to get you. If anyone was hanging around with a plan to take you, I had to fix that shit before you go back to school where we'll be separated. If I came to the house without you, it wouldn't work. If no one showed up to take you, then I still wanted to fuck you on that dead ginger's bed." He dumped more M &Ms in mouth. "I never got to do that."

Theon clutched his head tightly. His eyes darted back and forth in an evasive serpentine. "WHO the FUCK would come for me BUT MRS. STARK?! WHO?! My sister? How would calling the Stark's aunt trap HER! Who else IS THERE?! Sansa?! Jon-"

Ramsay slowly turned to him and shrugged, wincing facetiously. "I may have miscalculated. But, good, it's all over. There's no one left so now we can just relax-"

Theon shook his head and almost cried in hysterical frustration, "Why the fuck would Jon kill me?!"

"What?" Ramsay squinted and shook his head before exiting the highway. "Why would _Jon_ kill you?"

"THAT'S WHAT I ASKED YOU! Oh, shit." Theon shuddered once and froze, squeezed tight in hot panic. "'Take' me. This wasn't to stop my murder it was to stop my ... rescue? THAT'S why you wanted to dress me in these new clothes you picked and _your_ fucking jacket? That's why you wanted me to hobble in, bandaged, barefoot, bruised, with just-fucked hair and your fucking _cumm on my face_?! That's why you _brought Robb's gun_? In case _JON_ was there?! Jesus motherfucking Christ... you're insane. You are abso-fucking-lutely insane."

"Insane; what does that even mean?" Ramsay muttered, darkening. "Look, Jon seemed to have a bit of a thing for 'saving' you. He took you from the school before **I** could get to you, he stopped **me** from coming back inside the Stark's house to get you, he got you out of the Stark's house and tried to take you away from me! And when you were talking to Robb you said, 'I want Jon to do it!' Then you remembered I was right fucking there, holding you. He kept texting me after you came home, you know. 'How is he?' 'What's he doing?' 'He won't call me.' 'Can I talk to him?' Like, even after I used your phone to tell him to fuck off. 'My girlfriend wants to meet you, Theon. She said you can live with us.' Can you fucking believe it?! _Another_ redhead in my fucking way! But, whatever, it's fine. He didn't show up, he must really be in Korea guarding the DMZ after all."

"Ramsay," Theon turned his palms up hopelessly, " _he saved my life_."

Ramsay suddenly raged, choking the steering wheel."BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T LEAVE WITH ME! It should have been _ME_! You were supposed to leave with ME! How many fucking times did I try to bring you safely home but you kept defying me and YOU ALMOST DIED AT THAT HOUSE!"

"Yeah," Theon agreed softly, "twice now."

Ramsay gritted his teeth and jumped on the break, skidding and spinning onto the dirt and gravel shoulder. The dome light came on when he jumped out of the car. "I do NOT have time for this right now!" The car kept dinging in distress while he pulled Theon out. He threw the crutches into the black woods. Bushes rustled where they landed. He choked Theon with one hand while he pulled out his long black bag out of the trunk and threw it over his shoulder. Theon's struggle only won him scratches across Ramsay's forearm. He could hear the alarm dinging even after the trunk slammed shut on him, but when Ramsay closed his car door, it the sound fled in fear. 

 

***

Roose had give Damon a folder before they parted earlier that evening. "You can Email me," Damon said, looking at the targets photo and looking over the map. "Ramsay set it up on my phone."

"Email you the photo and location of a murder victim moments before she dies? Is that what you meant?"

"Uh... no..."

"I don't pay you for your sage advice. I trust I don't need to tell you to destroy those papers?"

"Yeah, I mean no." Roose stared until Damon cleared his throat and left.

Damon excelled at surveillance. It was like meditation for him, focusing on external sounds and movements. The trick was to watch for change. He didn't focus on one place after another, but everything within his field of vision and hearing at once and waited silent and still for something in the humming blur to shift. It had been two hours, and no one had moved in or around the house he was watching.

**Sorry I'm late for work. Can't find my keys.**

Roose called immediately. "Are you sure she couldn't have left the house another way?"

"Yes, sir. No one has left the house. No one seems to be here."

" _Call_ my bastard son and tell him. Have him tell security at the estate  _in person._ Children forget the toys you live through leave trails you can't cover."

"Yes, sir. I'll call." Roose hung up. Damon sighed. Ramsay didn't answer.

Minutes later Roose called him again and abruptly told him to come 'home.' Damon felt a warm queasiness and tossed the phone on the seat beside him. When he pulled into the street, a changed jumped out from the blur; headlights behind him. 

This time Ramsay answered. "Hey, someone's following me."

"I'm coming as fast as I can."

"I'm up at The Reach, your father's in the middle of leaving The Twins for the Capital, can you come up behind me?"

"Of course."

"I'm at Highgarden-"

"Yeah, I know exactly where it is. Bye."

Damon stared at the phone Ramsay had bought him after the call ended. "I didn't even tell you where I'm going." Damon decided he'd give Ramsay an hour to call him back, or he'd just get Lysie and take her to California. He'd call Skinner, Dick, and Alyn if needed to take care of the the new friend following him. Overconfident and aggressive, it was easy to spot Damon's follower. Alyn would love to meet Damon's new friend on an unlit side street.


	72. Now I Run From You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon was surprised when Ramsay called just half an hour later, but still didn't give up the image of driving Lysie to find the Pacific.

"Hey."

"Still have your friend with you?"

"Yep."

"I'm on 51 East, just passed the Riverrun exit. Where are you?"

"You are?" Damon looked in his rearview mirror, then turned and looked out his back window. "Oh, cool. Um, I'm on 51 East approaching the Eyrie exit."

"Why don't you pull over at a gas station? Take that exit and call me when you do. I'll try to catch up by then."

"'Kay, thanks, man."

When he got in the lane for the exit he thought he saw Tansy passing under a streetlight behind him. "Hey, I'm exiting. I think I see you."

"Get in and out of the lane. Ha! I see you and I see that dumb fucker following you! I doubt we're dealing with a professional."

"Yeah. What kind of car is it?"

"A yellow Mustang GTO with flower decals. Who the fuck is this?"

"I'm pulling in here."

"Where, dumbass, I'm like five cars behind you. Pretend you're getting gas but don't get out of the car until I call you."

"Ok."

"WHERE, Damon?"

"Oh, yeah, the, uh, first gas station on your left."

Damon pulled up to a pump and pretending to hunt for his wallet. The Mustang pulled up to a pump on the other end. He saw Ramsay pull up in Tansy from the other entrance and parked by the airpump in darkness. 

Ramsay folded down the back seat and unlocked the hatch. "Reek!" Theon covered his eyes and looked up through his fingers, disoriented. "Get up here!" He grunted and crawled over the scratchy, pitted, carpet back into the leather interior. "Come closer." He put his hands on the seats' shoulders and leaned down. "Are you very sorry?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Do you see that dark blue Audi by pump 2?"

"Yes, Sir."

"That's Damon. If I let you drive this car, can you follow him for me?"

"Without you? Where are you going?" Ramsay slowly tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. Be fucking careful, she's my favorite. I gotta go, I'll be right behind you."

He got out and swiped his card at the pump. In truth, he was almost out of gas already; this piece of shit pissed it away constantly. He kept his eyes on the blue Audi. The driver was texting someone. He didn't see anyone else in the car; but that didn't necessarily mean anything. The Audi suddenly started up and he flinched. "Shit!" He could tell the driver was buckling his seatbelt and quickly put the pump back. He jumped in the driver's seat and hardly had time to register that there was a person beside him when a sweet-smelling cloth covered his nose and mouth. 

"Hiya, buddy. You're a pretty boy. Did you want to meet my friend?" The boy passed out quickly and Ramsay had little trouble moving him to the passenger seat, then sliding to the drivers side. He cuffed the boy's wrists behind his back,gagged him, and buckled him in. He called Damon. "Ok, good job, he didn't hear or see me. You know how to get home from here?"

"Yeah. Hey, thanks man. I really appreciate you having my back."

"Well, yeah, no shit I do. See you at home." Damon looked at his phone before pulling out. _Home; they use that word a lot..._

When Theon pulled out to follow Damon, it wasn't long before the Mustang was right behind him. _I have no money, no phone, no ID, no fucking shoes. I can't steal his favorite car. I can't steal his favorite car. I won't steal his favorite car. I won't steal his favorite toy._

"Hey, pretty boy. You with me? Oh ho!" Ramsay giggled as the boy growled and struggled fiercely with surprising strength and determination. "Fighter, huh? Wouldn't have thought... well, I have something for fighters in my little bag of tricks here." He leaned into the back seat and felt around in his bag until he pulled out a syringe. He pulled off the cap with his teeth and spit it out. "This is a piece of shit car, by the way. Oh! I love this song!" He squeezed the syringe to show his excitement. "And thank you for wearing this cute wifebeater. There we go, easy access, I just love that in a boy." He tossed the empty syringe back in his bag. "What is this? Who makes this? He pulled the tag out from behind the boys neck.

"Mmng mmm rrnndd!!" he tried yelling uselessly at the psycho to WATCH THE ROAD before he started fading out. The last thing he heard was the psycho with the eerie glass eyes singing cheerfully.

"Take my tears and that's not nearly allll!"


	73. Sights on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All I know is that to me, you look like you're lots of fun, open up your loving arms-"

"Unnnngh!"

"What? You don't like my taste in music? Or kidnapping and car theft? If you say it's my singing, you'll have really hurt my feelings. Wow! That's is _quite_ an angry face you have there. Oh! You know what you look like?! One of those little purse dogs! You look so convinced that little angry face will scare me any second now. You even _sound_ like a Chihuahua growling at me! So, you want to try talking to me before you see the big guy? It's up to you," the boy with the smug, closed-mouthed grin shrugged. "I'll just tell you, though, I'm the nice one."

He nodded. The boy with the gleaming silver eyes reached over and pulled at a strap behind his head. He used both hands for a moment, and the gag was spit out. "WATCH THE ROAD!!" he screamed.

"Huh?" The boy kept staring at him dumbly.

"THE ROAD! THE ROAD!"

"What about it?"

"PLEASE, KEEP YOUR FREAK EYES ON MY GODDAMN WINDSHIELD!"

"Oh. Well, 'please' was nice at least," the boy muttered to himself. "I like 'please' you know, but you don't have to call names."

He kept spitting, as he struggled to speak. "What is that awful taste?! What have you done to me?"

"Oh my god! Funny story! The last guy who wore that swore at me, and it had blood on it from the guy before that, so I washed it with dish soap, and then left some on! Get it? He was like gwaacck! Ehwaahhhkk! BLEH! You know? But he couldn't do anything about it! It was hilarious! What? Don't you get it? Soap? Swearing? Jesus, nevermind." He gave up the joke and picked behind his sharp canine with this thumbnail. After a moment the lunatic turned and frowned. "Is that the soap in your mouth, or does your face just _look_ that bitchy?"

He blinked and leaned back. "Look, whatever Cat is paying you; I can pay you double. Do you know who I am?"

"Nope."

"Loras Tyrell; heir to the Tyrell dynasty."

"Never heard of it."

"Wha-, did-... look, this 'wifebeater' I'm wearing, did you read who made it? It's _Gucci_ , ok? I have money; that's all you need to know. Now lets talk about what _you_ want to get out of tonight."

"Goo-chay? That sounds funny."

Loras stared horrified, as the moron dumped candy in his mouth. His face was underlit by the green glow from the head of Loras's own soundsystem. His shining eyes and drama mask of a face painted in green and black shades belonged on a horror movie poster. "Goo-chay," he repeated mindlessly.

"Listen, I bet you're tired and you could use some extra cash. Well, I can make deal with your boss when we arrive at our destination or, I can just make a deal with you; right now. I bet your boss always takes the biggest cut, right? Why should I pay someone else for my freedom when you're the one doing all the heavy lifting?"

"Yeah, but, he wouldn't like that. Nah, you better talk to the big guy. He took the tailing thing personally. He's in front of us now, so if I..." the crazed moron slid his hand through the air, veering to the left, then "bang." He squeezed in his fingers and shot them out, raising his hand. He shrugged and drank more M&Ms from the bag. "Aw, shit," he muttered, looking down. "I dropped some." He bent down to search around his feet.

"WATCH THE ROAD! WATCH THE ROAD, PLEASE!!"

Theon thought pulling through the open gate would be the hardest part, but it was merely surreal. He couldn't hear it close, when he followed Damon to the garages, so he just imagined it didn't. The hardest part was leaving the secure privacy of locked doors. For more than an hour he'd been alone in his own separate, closed of space where he controlled little things. He could make it stop, or go. He could change lanes, the station, the playlist, the volume, the gear. The car turned for him, speed and slowed at his touch. It roared, low and sultry, and the slight touch of his foot. Then through the black window, a white hand came to pull the handle. It clunked after snapping back.

Ramsay leaned down, smiling. "You, ok?" Theon took a deep breath and swallowed. He reached for the keys and could only hold them at the ignition. Ramsay knocked on the window. Theon looked over, then, with effort, up at Ramsay through the glass. "Roll down the window."

Yes, that was easier. He loved shoving serious Robb and mopey Jon in the Stark's pool in the summers, but he never liked jumping in himself. He'd always work his way into the cold water one step at a time; waiting on each one. He vaguely remembered Rodrick throwing him off a pier to 'learn to swim' but, he wasn't sure if it really happened to him, or if it was just a story he'd heard about someone else and their brother.

The window was down, he stared numbly at nothing, and Ramsay leaned in to take the keys. The humming stopped under him and the car lost it's life. One key, the size of his thumb, taken away and the his little flying universe became an another cage. Ramsay reached down and opened the door. He knelt and rubbed Theon's legs.

"Why are you crying?" He asked so patiently, it had to be compassion. Theon's arms drooped at his sides. His chest rose and fell slowly. He kept blinking his red eyes and nearly parting his lips to speak; he couldn't even decide it was useless. He only knew he was tired. "You wanted to leave?" Theon nodded, sluggishly. "But you didn't?" Theon shook his head. "What's wrong, baby? It's just too much? Yeah? You love me, you can't live like this?"

"Yes," Theon exhaled, even knowing it was a trick couldn't stop the truth bursting out in one bullet of a syllable.

"I understand. Really. You don't want to leave me, right? You just want another arrangement? Maybe live somewhere else even? Like with the Tyrell's again?"

"I-no-I never-"

"Here." Ramsay put a black handgun in Theon's hand. Theon didn't recognize the make, but it felt real enough. "It's loaded; you can check. If you want some other arrangement, a little more freedom, a little more space, if you want to leave here's your chance. Hold it like this." Ramsay gently lifted Theon's hand. "Squeeze to be free. It's the only way, Reek." Ramsay locked eyes with Theon and licked the barrel of the gun. His tongue flicked and rubbed against the tip, then he took it in his mouth and raised his eyebrows.

They stared at at each other a moment. Then Theon drank in the cold air and leaned in close. " _Bang_."

Ramsay bit the gun, and grinned with his bright inner light shining fully through his eyes. He pulled back from it and smirked with a kind of frown. Ramsay bit his lip and gripped Theon's thigh tighter. 

Theon unbuckled his seatbelt, Ramsay's eyes flashed, and Theon crashed into him. Theon's arms were tight around Ramsay's neck as he whined with dry sobbs. "You're all I have. They're all dead. They all hated me, and now they're dead or lost. You're all I have! Please, I need you, I need you! Let's go to bed, please? Please, don't hurt me anymore tonight, please-"

"Hey!" A long shadow blocking the sensor light above the main garage door yelled over to Ramsay. "Where is he?"

"IN HIS FUCKING CAR, DUMB ASS! What, puppy?" Theon was just a broken mess in his arms though. He couldn't say how he missed those people, how he was morning a life and the love he never had and never would. If he told Ramsay how monstrous he was for killing half a family; the monster would hurt him again. He needed his Ramsay; the one in the lush bed, in the soft room, with the kind touch, who whispered sweet things.

"Well, I didn't see him in the trunk. Aw, man! he pissed himself!"

"Hold on, baby. WELL, TAKE OFF HIS PISSY CLOTHES THEN! FUCK!"

"What did you give him?" Damon asked, walking up behind Ramsay. "He's, like, drooling, and sweating and-"

"DAMON! For the love of rotting Jesus, handle your fucking shit like a big boy."

"Aw, what's wrong with your buddy?"

Ramsay smiled apologeticly at Theon then rolled his eyes and jumped up. "Look, shut up! I gave him a lot; too much, honestly. I'll go ahead and admit it was too many sedatives but, he has, like, this high-pitched throaty way of screaming I did not, at all, appreciate. He thinks we're working for Cat. Take him to the basement. I'll come help when he wakes up, but right now," he motioned towards his Reek, " _I'm fucking dealing with something._ "

"Oh, yeah, that's cool."

"THANKS! Thanks, buddy. _Thank you!"_  He knelt down to Theon. "Come here, puppy, you say such nice things. I'll take you bed and make it all better, ok?"

" _Please_." Nothing had ever sounded better.


	74. Laugh With Me, Hyena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loras' eyelids fluttered in discordant rhythms for ages.

He heard the moron laughing somewhere in the dark. He tried with all his energy to focus. He couldn't feel his limbs, it took all his strength to remember what had happened. Before giving up that he'd woken, he had to make a cursory assessment of his situation and surroundings.

This boy possessed a child-like mind. He appeared loyal to his boss, who had probably been taking care of him for sometime. He didn't seem dangerous; almost sickeningly innocent. Still, he could very well be violent if he was upset and confused, or if he was ordered to be. The assassin must use him as a driver for his loyalty and simplicity. He'd never be capable of blackmail, he probably couldn't even spell it. He could picture the boy petting a rabbit 'the big guy' gave him a little too hard, but Loras couldn't picture him being too upset when it stopped playing and went stiff in his crazy hands.

Loras opened his eyes and could make out the boy's dramatic face, lit by a laptop in front of him. He was guffawing at a video with food in his mouth. Loras sighed and looked to the air above him. _Caught by a drooling troglodyte. I hope you can't see me now._ He knew he could easily manipulate the boy, given enough time, but felt he should watch not to make him startled, scared, or angry. "Hey," the word came out cracked, in a hoarse whisper. Loras started coughing.

The moron glanced up and smiled. "Hey!" He shoved popcorn in his face and started laughing again.

 _Oh, you are going to be so fat after you turn twenty. He must sit around stuffing his face in this basement all the time._ "Do you have any water, uh, what's your name?"

"Rudiger," he answered, without looking up. "No water, buddy."

"Oh..." Loras had to clamp his jaw to hold his tongue. He wasn't as good with people as his sister, and he certainly was not as patient. He'd much rather just beat the shit out of the stupid psycho, but he still couldn't feel anything, and had terrible tunnel vision. "You watching cat videos or something?"

"Something." He picked up a cup and lifted it to swallow gulp after sweet, cool gulp. He slammed the cup down and bent over laughing and the screen. When he sat up, he seemed to slowly process that Loras looked unhappy. "What? Oh," he lifted the cup. "It's vodka, not water. Hey! You want some?!"

"Um, no thank you, ... buddy. What are you watching?"

"It's this movie but someone cut out all the boring parts- with the talking, you know? So now it's just these people jumping, one after another. First they all like walk back and forth, they sit and think, they stare, then they jump and they're like "Woah, woah, woaaaah! OH, NO! Hahaha!"

"Oh, like into a lake or something? On vacation?"

"Yeah! They said people travel from all over to just jump from this bridge. It was the number one place to jump in the world and I think that's why they made the movie."

Loras spoke slowly and calmly. "Do you ever go on vacations with friends, buddy?" Rudiger looked up, and seemed to think about it.

"No," he answered at last. "People don't really like me." He clicked a key the laptop and leaned forward; interested at last. "They don't really want to talk to me like you do, you know? They're always screaming at me or crying..."

"Where would you want to go, if you could go on vacation with a friend?"

Rudiger leaned back in his chair and whistled. "Hmmmm. Welp, never really been anywhere so its hard to know what I would like. I think... somewhere with pirates- BUT, nice ones."

"Ohhhh... okay. Ok, yeah! I love pirates, myself. You would love Disney World! They have a-"

"FAKE!"

"Uh, oh.  _Real_ , actual, nice, pirates. Right, of course. You would like the Canary Islands, ever heard of it?"

"Canaries aren't parrots." Rudiger shook his head and rolled his eyes. He turned back to his laptop.

"Oh!" _You fucking moron just listen for two fucking seconds!_ "There are parrots there! LOTS OF PARROTS and friendly pirates. I've been there, I was going to go back soon, actually."

"I don't know, buddy. Canaries live in coal mines, not pirates."

 _The fuck?_  Loras could fill his fingers dig into his palms; so at least the feeling was coming back. Maybe the rage was helping. "I have a yacht- a real big boat. No one ever wants to come on adventures with me though; they're so busy working. I don't have many friends either, buddy. You should be my friend and we could see lots of places you would love."

"WHAAAT?!" Rudiger half-sank behind the laptop's screen. "Liar. You're pretty, you wear Goo-chay and have more money than Cat Stark. You don't care about me. You want him," he pointed above them, "right? He'll be here soon."

"No! No! I don't want him."

"Oh, really? Do I look stupid to you?" He sat up with a proud little smirk on his face. "YOU were following him. I know that. I know things." He crossed his arms.

"No, no! I was following him because I thought he was hired to kill my friend."

"Kill..." Rudiger looked confused. _Don't get him upset- he might panic!_ "No. Wait..." he seemed to be rubbing the few, warped brain cells he had together. Dull recognition made him look almost focused for once. "Kill who?"

"My friend, Theon. A boy, like you, maybe younger. He has auburn hair and hazel eyes. You haven't... you didn't meet him like this... did you?"

Rudiger jumped up suddenly and walked over. He put his hands in his pockets and looked Loras over. "He has sandy hair and aqua eyes."

"You saw him?! Is he... is he dead?" Loras felt sick.

"So you agree his hair isn't auburn then?"

"What?"

"I mean, I said sandy hair and aqua eyes and you jumped- so you acknowledge I'm right, and you probably don't know or remember him that well."

"IS HE ALIVE?!"

"You answer me first."

"AQUA IS NOT AN EYE COLOR!" Loras could feel himself falling forward and stopping. He felt a dull burn in this shoulders, and a formless pressure on his wrists. "Yes, you're right! You must be his best friend ever! Soulmate even! IS HE ALIVE?"

Rudiger smiled, "I win." Loras could have sworn he winked - but the flickering light played tricks on his dim vision. "Yeah, he's alive. What do you want with him?"

"I just don't want The Starks to kill him." Loras sank under an old pain.

Rudiger stared at the floor, thinking. "He wouldn't kill that boy," he murmured to himself. He looked up at Loras. "Maybe-" they both heard the door open and felt the light intrude upon their whisperings. Rudiger ran up and put his hands on Loras' chest. He jumped feeling the skin on his. The boy whispered quickly by his ear. "Talk to him, I'll help you. Just tell him the truth. He does research on people, so don't lie or it will be all over. He gets really mad sometimes."

A hard, scrappy, man with a stubbly angular face came into the light, followed by shadows. Rudiger stayed by Loras' side. "Is that him?" Loras said under his breath.

"Him?! Oh, no. That's not the big guy," he whispered back, too loud for Loras' comfort. The sputtering light was blocked by a man whose hair brushed against it. "That is."

"Oh." Loras' courage dropped from his heart to the soles of his feet for the first time since the worst day of his life. He had assumed the name would be indicative of the man's status only. Why couldn't it be an ironic nickname? He couldn't make out the man's features, as he leaned down to study him with the light at his back. 

"So?" The giant shadow asked in a low, calm voice. "What the fuck do you have to say for yourself, princess?"

"PRINCESS?!" His courage soared, burning, like a phoenix. "FUCK, YOU, ASSHOLE!"

The giant laughed hard, and higher-pitched laughter echoed him in the dark. His deep voice vibrated in Loras chest like a passing drum line. He laid a heavy hand on Loras' head and ruffled his hair. "I see what you mean about his screaming." Rudiger glanced sideways at Loras and shrugged apologetically. "Is he gonna talk? Should I get the whip?" he asked casually and turned away.

"Um, no. I don't think you have to do that." The big guy stopped and looked at the boy over his shoulder. He seemed surprised. _Please don't hit him._ Loras was trying to read every movement the shadow giant made. The way the big guy reacted to Rudiger would say a lot about his own chances. "I think he's a good guy. Maybe?"

After thinking a moment the big guy called to his little crony. "Hey, come over here. Let me ask you something."

"Ok!" The boy ran after him. It sounded like he was skipping the way his feet slapped the cement in the dark. He whispered something and giggled like a hyena. The big guy rumbled a little chuckle.

_He's willing to listen to that dipshit, Rudiger, so he's may be crazy but he MUST be very patient._


	75. Knots I'll Never Untie.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What are you doing?" Damon asked, bent to Ramsay's luminous face.

"Keep up! Don't let Skinner figure it out before you do. Alyn will be so pissed." Ramsay giggled and raced back, smiling over his shoulder for a moment. Damon laughed and followed. Alyn _hated_ inside jokes; he was always left out. Damon was always that much more important.

Ramsay leaned against the table he'd pulled out earlier and crossed his arms. "We don't have to kill him. You should listen to him."

Damon stared at him a moment. "Ok," he turned to Loras. "Well?"

"I was only following you because I thought you were after my friend. I have no interest in hurting you or interfering with your business. I'll pay you double Cat Stark's fee."

Damon turned to Ramsay.

"I didn't say anything. I'll, like, get him some water." He hurried to a cooler off in a black corner.

Damon smiled. "Hmm. I wasn't hired by Cat Stark. I was hired _to kill her_. What an unfortunate miscalculation on your part."

"Here's the water," Ramsay interrupted, stepping in front of Damon with a near-blank expression.

Damon but down on his tongue, smirking. "Well, fan-fucking-tastic. Mission accomplished. We can all go home now," he announced to the boys, "he GOT the fucking WATER!" Then he loomed over Ramsay, "So give it to him and shut the fuck up, you lu-ittle dumbass!"

Ramsay looked a bit bored. "Oh, yeah."

The water was even sweeter and cooler than Loras has hoped for. He drank greedily, and was suddenly more aware of his torso. "So we're not at odds here. Why don't I buy you a drink somewhere? I could use some help and I pay very well." 

"Really? What kind of work do you pay so generously for?" The big guy pushed a loose curl hanging in front of his eye back. "Just how would-"

"He pissed himself."

"Yes, thank you. How would you like me to-"

"That's why I took his clothes off. They're in the wash."

"ALRIGHT." The big guy growled, through a biting smile.

"Cause they were pissy. That's probably why he was dehydrated."

"I GOT IT. I FUCKING GET IT! Yes, _it's annoying to be interrupted when you're trying to fucking do something_. So, LORAS, how can I help you?" The words shook in Loras' chest. Everyone seemed to be laughing at him.

"I just need to get to ..." Loras looked at the faceless shadows watching him, "a special target."

"No need to be coy. You're trying to convince me not to kill you; if that isn't perfectly clear. Just tell me everything, quickly and truthfully so I can find out the easy way. Alternatively, they can do what I pay them so generously to do, and then I'll find out the fun way."

One shadow laughed. Another huffed and growled. "Games! More fucking games! Just let him down and I'll take care of him."

"Why don't you shut the fuck up when Daddy's talking, sweetheart?" Rudiger cackled and a laughing shadow joined him. When he came closer to the light, Loras saw it was the scrappy man. He sat next to Rudiger and whispered in his ear. Rudiger whispered back and grinned while the scrappy man covered his mouth and doubled over.

"WHAT IS SO FUCKING FUNNY?!" Loras erupted. His patience had been eroded beyond endurance. "Alright. You can kill me and deal with hiding my body and car. I will be searched for immediately and relentlessly by the Tyrell family,  _my family._ When they don't find me, they will use their powerful influence to bring in the Lannisters and Baratheons, which surely even you Northern, backwoods, dumbass, inbred, goat-fucking hillbillies have heard of. This is the North, right? I can tell by your obnoxious accents." Loras recovered himself. A drew a deep breath with a clearer head. " _Alternatively_ , you can do a job for me and make lots of easy money. Or you can just let me go and not have any extra money or extra problems. The target is Stannis Baratheon, if you're interested."

"Stannis? Really? Well, yes, I am very interested. We may have more than one common enemy. So, why Stannis?"

"It's personal."

"Poison?" Rudiger asked. His eyes were shining as he greased a whip.  

Loras furrowed his brow. "Yes. I'm sure it was."

"Ha! I knew it! His own brother, though? Really?" He jumped up from the desk. "I have an idea that might work for everyone. Here, Damon." He handed Damon his whip and slid his arm around him. "Let me show you what I'm thinking about and you can tell me what you think, ok?" He turned to the scrappy man. "His clothes should be ready soon. You can make him more comfortable if you want to; get food or something. I doubt he can walk yet, but be careful, yeah? Well, Alyn's always happy to fight if that's what he wants, right, buddy? Come on, Damon."

Ramsay was so excited by his great idea, he pushed and pulled Damon all the way upstairs to the kitchen. He rummaged around the medicine cabinet and shoved a bottle in his pocket. "What's your idea?" Damon asked.

"It's a present! Come on! I have to show you, right now. You'll love it, I swear! Follow me!" Damon chased him out the back door and into the woods. "Keep up!" Ramsay yelled, over his shoulder.

They came to the iron fence surrounding the pool and wrapped around it. Ramsay launched down a path through the trees and lead them to a small building. Ramsay unlocked the door and turned on a light. "What do you think?!" 

"What is this?" Damon asked, stopping on the porch.

"It's Ben's old apartment. I can have it cleaned up. Look, I want to bring Loras in, but he knows our names and he knows we killed Cat, so we have to stay on top of him." He looked behind him, into the apartment. "Two bedroom. I know you'll be lonely when your sister leaves and this isn't the same but... what do you think?"

"Really?! My own place? With him? To keep?"

"Yeah!" Ramsay stepped back. "Come in! Come in! Let me show you. I promise you'll love it."

Damon grinned and followed him inside. Ramsay shut the door behind them.

 

 


	76. Up Jumped the Devil and He Staked His Claim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The apartment wasn't large, but it was clean and open with floor length windows and new, sleek, expensive things.

It was separate and very quiet. "It's perfect."

"Awesome!" Ramsay punched his arm and beamed up at him. "I knew you'd love it! Did you like my impression of you?"

"No. Mine was better." Damon flashed his quiet grin and wandered around the apartment, looking everything over.

"Well, I have more personality to work with."

"Hey, um, what about that guy? Loras? How's that gonna work?"

"Oh yeah, check it out." Ramsay pulled a pill bottle from his pocket and tossed it to Damon. "That will help. He looks like a party kid, right? There's no faster way to make a best friend."

"Oh, Ramsay!" He popped the top of and dumped some into his palm. "Ramsay is this real?! Is it good? What is it? Mad Hatters?" He squinted at the pills in his hand.

"I tested it; it's good. You can test it if you want." Ramsay sat on the marble coffee table watching Damon pace the living room. "I can get the kit or you can just snort some."

Damon stopped. "This is really mine? I can have these?!"

"Shit, are you more excited about the drugs or the apartment?"

"Everything!" Damon called, stomping to the kitchen. 

Ramsay sat watching. "Good. My father's making deals in his old smoke-filled rooms at the Capital, he won't be home for a few days. I think we should have party, don't you?"

After a moment Damon arched up from the kitchen counter. "Oh yeah," he told the ceiling. He exhaled slowly. His chest and shoulders emitted light vibrations. "Oh, shittttt, it's good. It's good, man, _fuck_." His pain melted into silence. His body had just begun to sing him through space. Every atom in his hands was dancing, spinning, sparkling. He was magic.

"Hey," he felt a hand on his. The heat, the pressure, the texture electrified him on contact. "Let me keep this while you're playing, ok?"

"Whaaat? Ramsay, I know what to do with my fucking switchblade. I can't be fucked up enough to unlearn how to use it."

The world moved in discrete frames around the stale smelling kitchen; snapshots looking for Ramsay's face. The counter kept Damon's hands, while Ramsay's slipped away, taking his knife off the mirror. The windows across the apartment watched with dull, black eyes. Dust waltzed with the atoms he was expelling around the light above the stove. When he finally found Ramsay's face, only his sparkling eyes were smiling.

"You're crazy." Damon's heavy hand found Ramsay's head and rested on his thick hair. "Your hair is sooo soft! Your eyes are so crazy, just like you! They always catch the light and pull it into their dark center, and it shines trapped there."

"Do you always think these poetic things?" Ramsay asked with sweet sincerity. He tried to lift Damon's hand off his head but, suddenly Damon had Ramsay up in his arms.

"OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO LITTLE! HOW DO YOU SEEM BIGGER THAN YOU ARE ALL THE TIME?!" Damon giggled like an enormous toddler while Ramsay wiggled against his barrell chest. It tickled, it was electric, it was a hazy, delicious rush that kept climbing. 

"Damon!" Ramsay yelled, laughing. "Wait! I have one more present for you! For letting me keep your knife."

Damon dropped him, but Ramsay caught himself before he hit the cold stone floor. "Really? What is it?! You know what's so crazy? You are _exactly_ the way you used to be! I mean, as a kid. You were too adult to be a kid and now you're too kid to be adult. I mean, not a _normal_ kid, the kind of kid you were. The kind that drowns what they catch in traps they set in woods behind their house. You never changed, I always think about that but I never tell you. Isn't that, um-"

"Crazy? I bet there's _lots_ of things you don't tell me. You know you're my best friend?"

"No," Damon looked at his shoes. "I thought it was _Theon_. What's so special about Theon-fucking-Greyjoy? He never used to bother me then you get this raging boner for him and Michaela-"

"Yeah, I do have a fucking hard on for him, so he's not exactly my 'best friend,' you know? I'm actually a little stiff for him right now, wanna see?" He went to grab Damon's hand. He laughed when Damon jerked it away. "Does it bother you?"

"A little. It's good. I know it is. He makes you happy and, like, much easier to deal with. You can be so fucking unbearable when you're bored and lonely." Damon started laughing and leaned back against the counter. "Oh, no! I forgot how honest this shit makes you and how you can stop talking! Oh... oh no. This was a mistake. I should not be doing this around you."

"Supposedly, it was developed as a truth-serum," Ramsay picked up the bottle and took one out, studying it, "and was later used by psychiatrists to facilitate expressing difficult emotions and past trauma during counseling sessions. I believe that, do you?" He put one pill in his pocket and screwed the top back on the bottle. "Do you love me, Damon? You never say you do."

"You know I do. You always want to hear it but that's not how I am. Just fucking look at everything I do for you, all the time, without question, ok? That's your answer. We've been through so much, you fucking pain in my balls." Ramsay came closer and Damon found himself backing up. "You  _know_  that you're the only person who's ever helped me out. Yeah, yeah! I love you, ok? I love you."

"Don't shrink from me. I won't hurt you. Here," he pulled something out his pocket and cupped it in his hands. "lean in real close and I'll show you the surprise. This is going to feel _incredible_."

 

Theon pulled his legs closer to his chest. He hugged Ramsay's pillow and glanced at the clock again, forgetting, again, that it hadn't been plugged in since he first woke up here. He'd been falling in and out of sleep. He was aching with need and so horribly tired. He wanted Ramsay to hold and pet him more than he wanted to drink, or smoke, even more than he needed to sleep.

When he had been riding down the mountain to the Stark's house, he kept picturing having to face the  big family photo which hung over the fireplace. All the Starks were in it, even Jon. Now three people were gone and it was all his fault. Worse still would be seeing the four left and knowing how alone they must feel now, how lost. The kids had no choice in what happened, less than he did, why should they hurt so much? They don't even know that Robb is dead. _They'll be told he killed their mother!_

"FUCK!" he sat up at the foot of the bed and slammed his wrist into the iron slithering there before he knew what he was doing. He stared at his wrist a moment and gasped. Another heartbeat, the pain hit him and rang like a gong with every heartbeat after. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

 _Maybe if I run it under really cold water? Maybe I can find his jacket? Maybe he won't care? Why would he care?_ He couldn't help but feel it was worth it, even as he panicked. Ramsay shouldn't care after everything he did.  _It's my body; fuck what you think._ It felt good to do something, decide something for himself, even something as stupid as this. He felt more awake now, more focused. How long had he been sleep-walking?

The door flew open. The white light rushed in, hurting Theon's eyes. "What are you yelling about, puppy?" Theon bounced on the bed and felt it sink beside him. He opened his eyes and they adjusted slowly. "Did you miss me?" Ramsay asked, sitting next to him.

"Yes," he unloaded the word like a weight. He brought his knees to his chest. His right ankle halted suddenly when the chain was pulled taut. "Can we go to sleep now? Please?"

"Sleep?! You slept all day! It's too early to go to bed but, when we do, I'll stay with you all night, ok? Until you wake up in the morning. I'll make it all better. Right now, guess what?! We're having a fucking party!" He flipped Theon on his side and slapped his ass with every syllable he spoke. "So-get-up-get-up-get-up! Par-ty! Par-ty! Par-ty!"

"Ow! Ok!" Theon inhaled against sheets. 

The mattress lifted as Ramsay sprang off the bed. He clicked on the light. "Where did I put the key? Oh, god, I should have a duplicate, huh? That would suck if we had to call a locksmith." Theon groaned. "Found it! Come here! Come here!" He stopped buzzing around. "What's that?"

Theon followed Ramsay's hungry gaze to his swelling wrist. He swallowed with some difficulty and chewed his dry lip.

"Gimme. Come on, let me have it."

"My... wrist?"

"Now." Ramsay let Theon lay it in his open palm. He traced the swelling with light, fleeting, strokes of his finger. "You can't just make me a button unless you want me to push it."

"I'm sorry, it just happened. I was-" he thought he went blind. He saw a flash of white then black and red flooded with thousands of tiny white and rainbowed comets. Then the shock dropped away and the pain exploded against his own screaming. _Please stop, I think I broke it,_ he tried thinking hard enough to be heard. He couldn't stop wailing. 

"What did I tell you?" Ramsay released his grip.

Theon shook his head on the bed cover. It was wet and clung to the corners of his mouth and eye when he tried to pull himself back up to kneeling. "I don't-" Ramsay frowned. "WAIT! Wait, wait, I know! Uh, you-"

"You're not evening listening to me, are you?" Ramsay asked squeezing and twisting. The bone shifted. It felt a little like a baby tooth when it first started loosening. His pet sucked in air with what sounded more like a hiccup than a gasp. He laid face down shaking for a few moments before he finally started screaming again. He kept coughing and crying as he struggled to inhale and screaming as he exhaled. It was a such a nice apology. "Did you forget how to listen to me? Did you stop caring? I just feel like you're not taking this relationship as seriously as you could be. What did I say? What did I say about hurting yourself? You want to see if I can break this bone?"

"NO! NO-NO, PLEASE!"

"I think it's just a hairline fracture... that's my guess. Now I have to call that creepy old man into my fucking house again. You better tell me what I said before I become angry with you." He held the thin wrist he loved so much in one hand and prodded the red and purple swelling with his thumb. He found something like the gummy fat he used to spit out of chicken nuggets. 

"It's not fun unless you do it! That's what you said!"

"Right! I didn't think I actually had to say, '... so stop hurting yourself.' I mean, was that really _not clear_? Well, now it is, right, puppy?"

"YES! YES! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"Good. Oh, god, you got snot on my covers. This is goose down; do you know how hard that is to clean?"

"No, I'm sorry! I'll clean it." Theon was afraid to even twitch while Ramsay still held his wrist.

"The fuck you will. Like you know what how to do things. You can't even apologize correctly." He started twisting the wrist. "How do you talk to me when you're in trouble?"

" _I'm sorry, Master_! Please forgive me!"

"Better. Why aren't you allowed to break this wrist?"

Theon looked up, on his knees and elbow. He sunk to his chest but kept his eyes on Ramsay's. "It's not my wrist to break. I-" he looked down for a second but corrected himself with effort. He was sinking. "I shouldn't break your toy." Sinking into a dark numb place, floating in warm, black water. 

"See?! I know that you know what to say, you fucking dumbass. Now, are you going to be a good boy for me?"

"Yes, Master." Sinking into the bed, out of his mind, back into sleep-walking. "I promise to be a good boy for you."

"Good." Ramsay dropped his wrist and slapped his face. "I know you're really torn up about the loss of your assassins because you make no fucking sense. I know you've been trying for me and you have to be retrained, so I'm trying to be patient with you. Sit. Tell me you love me, kiss me like you mean it and I'll give you a painkiller. Then I'll take you downstairs and you can stay with me since you're so lonely."

"Thank you, I don't- you don't have to take me to your party. I'm so tired-"

"I want to." Ramsay climbed on the bed and over Theon. "Do you love me?"

"I love you, Master."

Ramsay grabbed his swollen wrist. "I don't believe you."

" _I love you, Master_!"

Ramsay squeezed his wrist a little. He whined and felt the old pain burrowing into his chest; sinking, sinking, in waves of pain, rolling high on his wants, dipping into agony, accepting things and sinking. Ramsay pulled him close. He was caught, and the throwaway-boy was wanted. When their chests touched a fire ignited.

"I love you, Ramsay," he whispered. And he kissed him, and Ramsay believed him because he meant it, though he searched Ramsay's eyes for cold which could snuff the fire out.

 

 


	77. People Are Fragile Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Cold?" Skinner asked then threw Loras his clothes, grinning.

"Go fuck yourself, Uncle bad-touch," Loras sneered.

Skinner's eyes wrinkled at the corners when he laughed. "I'm younger than you, princess. You hungry?"

"I'll just be leaving, thanks." Loras kept his eyes on the men as he dressed.

"I don't think that's going to happen tonight but, we'll see. You wanna go upstairs? It's a lot more comfortable."

"Yeah. I'd like to see Theon before I go." _  
_

"That's not up to me."  Skinner stomped up the stairs and Loras followed, with Alyn behind them. Loras nearly gasped at the sophisticated home he walked up into.  _That caveman lives here?_ He was fascinated by the sleek, modern rooms they passed through, but kept his attention sharply focused on the kids walking with him. They stopped in an open kitchen made of a few sharp, shining, edges. Skinner leaned over a far countertop to peer into a dark dining room. "Damon?" It took Loras awhile to find his long, broad form leaning against the black sliding glass door. He turned slowly to glance at Skinner, then went back to staring into the living room.

Alyn walked up behind him. "You... ok?"

He'd carried Theon down like a sick child. Theon's arms wrapped around neck, and his legs around waist. The bandages on his foot were loose and starting to fray. He had sat up in Ramsay's arms and asked him something with a bright smile. Damon knew how Ramsay was looking back at him; _like he's a fucking treasure_. Ramsay had laid Theon on a couch while he flew around setting up the television and sound system, calling someone on the phone.

Ramsay sat on the couch, clicked and pointed at his lap. He drummed his fingers on the couch's leather arm; pat patpat pat patpat. Theon laid his head down on command, just like a fucking dog. He saw Ramsay look down. The way his cheeks rose, Damon knew he was smiling. He felt someone staring at his back.

" _What_?"

"Nothing, nothing." Alyn turned to join Skinner and the guest in the kitchen.

"Do you want to fight me?"

Alyn stopped. He only half turned around before answering. "No."

"Why?" Damon pulled Alyn roughly back before he could step away. "Why don't you ever start a fight with me? I just bet you won't fight Theon either, would you?"

"Ramsay's fucktoy? I don't even want to think about... that."

"Yeah?" Damon nodded slowly. His nostrils flared. "And _why_ don't you want to fight _me_?"

Alyn looked away. "We're friends."

Damon's shoulders dropped as he sighed. "I'm sorry, man. I'm being dick 'cause I'm coming down. Forget it, ok?" Damon crossed his arms and leaned on cold glass. 

"What are you laughing at?" Ramsay asked as an automated message thanked him for holding and assured him the next available representative would be right with him.

Theon looked up and winced. "Nothing. Don't-"

"What? OH, SHIT!" Ramsay slapped Theon's stomach. "I LOVE THIS SONG!"

"No!" Theon grinned and held his head in his hands. "Don't, Ramsay, you can't do it. Don't!"

"The fuck I can't! What the- I have a beautiful fucking voice! You should beg me to sing for you."

"Not this song! No one can hit that note-"

"Listen! Come here and listen!" Ramsay pulled Theon up by his hair and put his mouth up to Theon's ear. "I'lll beeee gonnne, in a day or twooooooo! DON'T COVER YOUR EARS!"

"STOP!"

"Ask me sing the next chorus to you. Ask me. Reek, Reek, ask me, ask me, ask me. Hello?" Ramsay shoved Theon's head back down into his lap. "Hey, Mike, how you doing? I'd like to order some pizza. Uh huh. Large..."

Damon found he was hugging himself. He shook his head and dropped his arms. Under kitchen lights Skinner was looking through cabinets. He'd already pulled out several bottles of liquor and lined them on the counter. He walked over to Alyn and Loras with a stack of shot glasses. Seeing Damon he lifted them. "Damon, you in?"

Loras turned to look at Damon when he heard his name. They all seemed to wait with some trepidation for his next word or movement, and he felt made of living flesh again. "Sure. I also have these." He laid the pill bottle on the counter next to Loras who looked from it to Damon, raising an eyebrow. "I'd feel a lot better doing business with someone who has information on me if I could feel like we're friends."

Loras picked up the bottle and turned it back and forth. "I'd like to see Theon before we get close."

Damon grinned broadly. He leaned down and Loras could see his face for the first time. "Ok. You can see Theon and we'll get real close." He didn't seem as scary as he had in the basement. He had big sleepy eyes with long, light, lashes under his pronounced brow. A soft little mouth stretched brightly, centered on his long, square jaw. His ears stuck out just a little.

Loras smirked. "Ok." They both took a pill and shot glass. Skinner took a pill and shot glass next but Alyn just wanted a shot. Damon lifted his glass and offered a toast to new beginnings. They slammed their glasses on the counter when they finished.

Damon drapped an arm over Loras' shoulders. "Alright. Let's relax a little. Food's on the way. Come in the living room; I think Theon's still here.

"Say it."

"Don't! Don't! Oh god, please don't break it..."

"I'm not gonna break it. Not if you say it."

Theon smiled; he was too stupid to help it. "You're a great singer. The best! You should try out, ha ha, for American Idol-"

"That sounds sarcastic, but it can't be. You love my beautiful voice. You want me to sing Bohemian Rhapsody to you, right?"

"Do you realize they kept making music after 1989? There's, like, so much of it- Ow! Fuck! OH MY GOD!" Theon's eyes bugged out and he gripped the couch with his free hand. " _Loras_?"

"Theon! You're alive! What... what _happened_ to you?" Theon was wearing basketball shorts Ramsay had bought him, but he'd never felt more horribly exposed. He pulled his free arm up to his chest. Ramsay still held his other wrist. Loras came slowly closer to them. Theon blushed in Ramsay's lap. He pulled his legs closer to his chest and felt around the bottom of his shorts. Loras frowned at Ramsay. "What are you doing to him?"

Ramsay's eyes glittered coldly even before he smiled.


	78. I Love My Black Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm playing with him," Ramsay replied with a razor sharp smile, "and, look, it really isn't auburn."

Theon sat up slowly and spoke to Loras. "I... I was in danger and he... saved me." Though it was true, it felt like a lie. "Loras, you should _not_ be here. You have got to get out-"

Ramsay covered Theon's mouth and pulled him into his chest. " _Don't be rude_."

"Can I talk to my friend alone, Rudiger?"

"No."

" _Excuse me_?" Loras tore into both words bearing his straight, white, teeth.

"I said 'NO'. He's mine." Ramsay pushed Loras away from the couch with his foot. "Get your own." He would never understand why, but the pink tears running across the mad boy's black ankle sock made Loras hate him at once and fiercely.

"Who the fuck is Rudiger?" Alyn muttered and looked around for an answer. Damon sank against the wall laughing. Skinner plopped on the floor by Damon. His shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. Loras surveyed the room quickly, dove his hand into his coat pocket, then froze. He hurriedly searched his other pockets then his long fingers curled up into fists.

"What? I didn't take your phone, gun, wallet, and keys." Ramsay ran his fingers weaving through Theon's hair while Theon hugged his knees with trembling arms and stared sadly at nothing. "Did you, Damon?"

"Let me think..." he counted the items out on four fingers. "You know what? Um, yeah, I might have." Damon propped his elbows on his knees and smiled warmly. "Sorry, Ramsay." 

"Wait, wait; _Ramsay_? _Bolton_? That's you?!" Loras leaned in and his eyes widened. "Oh, shit, it is you. You're that fucking," Theon shook his head with bulging eyes until Ramsay pulled his head back to rest on his shoulder, " _psycho_! You were a psycho even when we were kids! I've heard stories about you! Holy shit, what is this? Where am I?"

"Oh, so _now_ you remember me? I remembered you, pretty boy. Are you going to sit down and use your manners or should we talk outside? **My** Theon is very sensitive."

Loras considered Damon and Skinner smiling stupidly at him on the floor, and Alyn's bitter grin slowly creeping across his dark face. "It's nice outside."

"Alright, buddy." Ramsay slid away from Theon and got up.

Theon gripped the sides of the couch like he was going over a waterfall on it. "Ramsay, what you are doing?! _Why?_  Loras, just get in your car and l-" Ramsay shoved Theon's head into the couch cushion. 

"See? He's agitated already." He released Theon who sprang up with a gasp. There was a red mark on his cheek where the leather had stuck to him. 

"Loras, sit the fuck down! Ramsay," he clutched his heaving chest, "please, _please_ , don't! Just send him away, please! I'll never talk to him again, I swear! I don't even-"

"What the hell happened to you?!"

"- like him..."

Loras shoved past Ramsay and rushed to Theon. He knelt, grabbing Theon's face. "Holy shit! Theon! You are a fucking mess. You have to come with me. We need to get out of here."

"Don't-" Theon was drowning in raging currents of white hot needles. He couldn't look away from Ramsay. "Oh, god! Oh, god! _You can't touch me, you can't say those things!_ I don't even like you, ok? I never liked you. I hate you! You're spoiled and you... talk too much." Theon's eyes fell at last as hot tears blurred his vision. "Go away. _Go live an exciting life with people who love you and forget my name._."

Loras' hands fell away gently. He looked so old then. "You think you're dying?" he whispered. "You think you'll help me by pushing me out into the cold? I know it's been years, but you were the best friend I ever had. I'm so alone now. I can't just leave you to suffer and die. It won't help me. It doesn't make things easier, I swear it doesn't. Oh, ha. I think it's working." Loras looked up at Ramsay and over to Damon. "Let's sit down. Here. We can talk. I feel like talking." He sat next to Theon, who jumped back. "You look like a raccoon I found trapped under my house. It's alright, Theon. I won't hurt you." He reached for Theon's knee when the world spun away and went red.

" **DON'T TOUCH HIM!** " had torn Loras off the couch and knocked him out with one blow. He lunged on the boy and started choking the limp body. 

"Ramsay-" Theon tried to scream but he could hardly hear himself squeak the name. His high voice cracked without substance. "Damon! Please! He's killing him!" Damon looked at Alyn who smiled.

"Ramsay, stop. Come on." Alyn said calmly as he came up behind Ramsay. He wrapped his arms under Ramsay's and up behind Ramsay's neck to break his grip. 

Damon jumped up and knelt in front of Ramsay. "Come on, Ramsay, you don't want to kill him. Your father would be beside himself. Ramsay, snap out of it; Theon needs you."

Ramsay growled  and leaned backwards to grab the back of Alyn's shirt with both hands and flip him over into Damon. Damon half caught Alyn and stumbled back. Ramsay sped towards Alyn, knocking him over before he could even stand. He punched Alyn across his eyes then into his jaw. Alyn hit Ramsay with an uppercut, but had a limited range of motion against the hard floor. Ramsay laughed wildly and punched Alyn hard in the temple before Damon pulled him off in a bear hug. He rumbled low and gently in Ramsay thrashing ear. "It's alright. You got him, you showed them. It's ok. Snap out of it. Theon needs you to snap out of it."

Alyn stood on wobbling legs. His face was swelling already. He spit blood at Ramsay's feet and smirked. Ramsay shoved against Damon's stomach with the heels of his feet and broke free of Damon, who sank with a grunt. Ramsay stumbled a step or two then ran at Alyn with his fist raised. Alyn smiled and got in position. 

"NO! NOT IN THE HOUSE, YOU FESTERING DESCENDED ANUS SHIT-SPITTING  _ASSHOLES_!"

Ramsay crashed into Alyn and they rolled, kicking, grunting, and hitting each other until Ramsay sagged to the floor, laughing. Alyn rolled onto his back and smiled with his bloody mouth. Damon dropped down make sure Loras was breathing. He sighed and picked the boy up carefully. "We should go upstairs, you fucking animals."

Ramsay sat up grinning. "You're right, you're right. Skinner, bring some drinks upstairs." He turned to Alyn. "Be a pal and clean your blood up, would you?" He messed Alyn's short hair and patted his back, then jumped up to get his Reek.

He was a sobbing mess squeezing himself as tightly as he could into the couch. _I should've let them kill me._

"What? Come here, puppy. I can't understand you." Ramsay sat beside his Reek and opened his arms. "Come here to me."

 _Don't kill my friend; Just kill me instead._ _Kill me because I'll never be able to kill you._ But Theon wasn't saying anything. He wasn't even breathing. 

 

 

 


	79. The Only Thing I Want to Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Reek! Stop that! What are you doing? Are you seizing or what? What is this? STOP IT!"

_What if it is his heart?_ Ramsay grabbed Theon roughly by the hair and pulled him forward. "OPEN YOUR EYES." His scrunched up eyelids parted to unveil the sad orbs of placid ocean waters Ramsay feared, for a moment, would never look back at him again. Ramsay exhaled then snapped, "What the fuck was that?" Theon grabbed his chest. "Ok, ok. You fucking baby."

Ramsay dropped serenely into his lush, honeyed voice. Gentle and caressing, he swept his Reek up into his arms and spoke into his ear. "I'm so happy you told him to go away. You thought that's what I wanted? That makes me so proud of you. I feel like you've earned more of my trust since you came home. You've been so good for me, you're such a precious boy."

The waves of sandy hair rolled back from Ramsay's chest until the timid aqua orbs rose with sweet hope to make Ramsay the only other person in the universe who mattered again. "Really?" he whispered.

"Yeah, puppy. You don't want me to kill him? Too much for you? It's alright. I'll make Damon keep a close eye on him until I think we can trust him but, I won't kill him unless he makes me. Ok? I'll do that for you because I love you."

Fat tears swelled around his Reek's tired eyes. "Thank you, thank you-" he started crying again but Ramsay didn't get mad. He remembered this type of crying. It was softer and lighter sounding than sad crying. He didn't shake under it or lose his breath. He kept making funny little sounds because he was trying to stop himself or say something. This kind of crying must be where people got 'boo hoo hoo' from because he mades noises like that in tiny bursts and then held his breath. Ramsay climbed the stairs holding him close.

"I'll take you to bed and calm you down, ok? We'll wait until you feel nice and safe before we join the boys." His Reek curled up tightly against him and squeezed his arms around Ramsay's neck. He was so vulnerable, so attached, so close with need. It made a rising sun of Ramsay's heart. He had to have him. His Reek thawed and softened more with every word, just because that's what Ramsay wanted. He reacted to everything so beautifully. Seeing himself reflected through his Reek's finely tuned responses made Ramsay feel so alive.

He had to have his Reek, he couldn't wait. He had to take him like this, and drink in his pet while every mask was stripped away. This was his most true self, the lost angel with the clipped wings. He was so pure, so potent, _intoxicating_. Ramsay wouldn't be cruel, he could take his time. He shut his bedroom door before taking Reek to bed. 

"Did you think about leaving me earlier, puppy?"

"No, I only thought not to do it, really. I mean, I kept telling myself not to."

"Good. Here, take your medicine for me." 

Ramsay pulled his shorts off and tossed them across the room. He crawled into bed and traced his Reek's scars. He went over the X on his ribs and bit his lip, humming. "I could kiss you all over if I could stand to not-fuck you an instant longer."

Light and voices fell upon Loras, all out of order. 

_Wake up, darling._

_No. Go away._

_Come on, lazy. You're too handsome hide in the dark all day._

_Hmmph._

"Wake up, princess." 

"What?" It was agony to wake up and remember the dream was a lie. Nothing but a lie and even that was gone now. He remembered the had psycho attacked him. The big one with the boyish face looked down on him. "Where's that guy... what's his name? What happened? I thought I died, but it was a lie."

"You almost did."

"Theon!" He tried to spring up, but Damon held him. 

"Hey, take it easy. Get your head back together. Theon's safe here, I promise."

"Don't let him kill me. I can't die yet." He shook his head. "I can't, not yet."

"I'll help you out. How do you feel?" The heavy hand smoothed his curls. Light hitting his soft, light, hair gave the giant a little halo.

"Better."


	80. History in a Scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So, what is this? Is this what you do? Is this your life?"

"Yeah." He smiled gently. "I guess."

"You like, you're a contract killer? But how does that even happen? Did you always want to kill people? Did you show up for an interview or what? I mean what the hell is this like?"

"Wow. That's a lot of questions." Damon leaned back on the soft gray couch Loras found he was laying on. Damon's arm was right next to him, his shoulder and face above. There were other voices somewhere behind him, but Loras was afraid to look around in case turning his head would break this connection and lose him this soft place and sunny smile.

 _Oh, shit, I'm high, aren't I? "_ Am I bothering you? Sometimes I talk a lot, but I'm a really cool person and great friend to have. You can talk. Tell me everything, I want to listen."

"Nah, this shit makes me talk a lot too. You're fine. You're really cute."

 _Oh no,_ Loras felt his cheeks and ears burning.  _Do I have an erection? I feel like one big fucking throbbing dick, I can't tell... maybe I'm not hard, maybe I just think I am. Maybe he can't see that far; I can't. He's looking at my eyes..._

"Um, I never wanted to be a killer. Maybe I thought I did as a kid, but I had no idea what it was like. It's not a bang and a prat fall, you know?"

"So, why aren't you playing football or something?" A little rush surged through him. He started feeling like a dazzling light connecting with another soul in a vast universe made of many worlds.

"Hmm. Well, what happened was I liked this girl named Emily in fourth grade. She had  lots of straight black hair she was always playing with and a sweet little giggle. One day I got to class early enough to steal the seat next to her; that was a great day." Loras smiled. Damon pushed a thick mess of curls out of his face. "Then I worked up the courage to pretend I was out of paper and ask her for a piece one day. She smiled and gave me _three_ sheets of paper. I thought, 'This is it. She's my girlfriend now, my first girlfriend. I did it!'"

Loras snorted and twisted his mouth around in a silly smirk, "Very smooth."

"I know, right? That wasn't even my big move. A week later I got Reeses cups and snuck them out of my backpack, behind my desk. When the teacher isn't looking I pop one in my mouth and kind of peek over a little to see if she notices. She starts looking at me, and I am so cool-"

"Uh huh," Loras laughed.

"Really! I looked over and acted like, 'Oh? This? What? The chocolate? Well, damn, I already ate it.' You know? I like looked down and shrugged, 'Aw, shit.' Then I realize, 'Wait a minute, there's a second one.' So I lift it up and, like, wiggle it like, 'Hey, would, I don't know,  _you_ want it or something?'

"Oh my god, suave. Then what?"

"Ha, ha, she smiled real big. Her nose kind of wrinkled and uh, not to brag, but I totally gave her that Reese's cup. It only took me, like, three months to make her notice me but I did it."

"Three months! Oh, honey, really? Did you actually _say_ anything?"

"No, ha ha, but we were pretty much lovers then. Oh, fuck, this music is amazing! Can you feel it?"

"Yeah, yeah, keep talking! Then what happened?" Loras licked his lips and swallowed. He took of a rubber bracelet and started chewing it with his grating molars.

"What was I saying? Emily! So, that was such a great day. A day an adult will never have; where you feel like the hero of your own movie, you know? And because this one thing you think you want is right, everything is right and nothing else matters. I kind of float to the bus after school and hear these kids yelling at one of the weirdos in my class. He's new and everyone says he broke out of a mental institution. He's just staring at the kids with dead eyes, like he doesn't understand what they're doing. Basically, I was too happy to see things clearly. I thought he was, like, challenged and they were picking on him and it made me insane so... you know. Of course, I was wrong about everything; I just wasn't paying attention. She made me feel like a good person and I thought I was helping a person who wasn't able to help themselves."

Damon inhaled and his eyes rolled. He started massaging Loras' wild, thick, curls. "Your hair has so much texture. I'm just going to pet you."

"Don't stop! Keep talking, what happened with Rudiger and Emily?" Loras ran a finger across Damon's soft shirt. His mouth was hot and dry, but he needed to hear the story more than anything else. 

"His name isn't Rudiger, he was just fucking with you."

"What... but why?"

"Pfft. I don't know. He's always playing a trick or game so just get used to it."

"Oh! Damon, do you...," Loras raised his eyebrow and lowered his voice, "have a hairy chest?"

Damon giggled, low and bumpy. The vibration against Loras sent him to another level of consciousness. "I guess so. See for yourself."

Loras slipped his hand under Damon's shirt. "Fuck, you are fucking ripped. Ah! This is incredible! This is the best feeling of my life. I never thought I could feel happy like this again. I feel guilty but I don't care at the same time. Finish your story! I want to hear it! What did you do with the bullies? How many were there?"

"Five. I can't see their faces anymore, but I remember the fight. I was a little impulsive then. I didn't say anything to warn them or give them a chance, I just started throwing them."

"THROWING THEM?!" Soft twisting hair ran across Loras' palms and in between his fingers. He felt the hard ridges of the vast landscape breathing against his cold, shimmering touch. 

"Yeah, ha ha. I only threw three. They tried to jump me after I tossed the mouthy one against a tree. He bounced off the trunk, I swear. He was in the middle of doing some sing-song asshole bullshit and didn't stop until he was midair, ha ha. He was so stunned he was still just sitting there, staring at me, when the music teacher was taking me to the principal's office. I tossed one off my back into a bike rack and caught one running away and slammed him against a bus. So I was expelled and stuff, and when I came back Emily had moved to the other corner of the room. She was really shy and and little; I'm pretty sure I scared her away. Ramsay took her seat and we started talking. He can be really, um, I think 'charismatic' is the word... right?"

"Really? I thought he was a retard, honestly." The air froze and grew heavy under Damon's fierce stare. "What?!

"I don't like that word. I don't like that word as an insult. I don't like that word as a joke."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry! Really. I don't mean to be an asshole, sometimes stuff just comes out of my mouth before I think about it and then I have to try to fix it. Look at this face; I have an angel face. Don't you believe I'm sorry?"

Damon smiled a little. "He was doing an impression of me, by the way."

"Well then he IS... stupid! I don't think he knows you at all. You should leave with me and Theon. I could get us an apartment. What?! Stop it! Don't look at me like that! Don't you like me anymore?!"

"I like you." Damon rumbled. "When my mother lost her job, the first time, Ramsay came to school with an envelope full of more money than I knew a person could have. He told me to tell her my dad gave it to me while I was getting on the bus. He plays a lot of games but, he's the only person that's ever helped me out. He always has, I know he always will."

Loras' arms shook and his nausea overtook him as Damon picked him up and laid him on the soft gray couch. He leaned down growing even bigger as he got closer to Loras. It was amazing how Damon moved easily through space like he had a map of the world secure in his mind. Loras wanted a bottle of water sitting on a coffee table next to him, but didn't know how to start to make a plan to get it. Damon's didn't look happy; the connection had snapped. " _Stay_."

Damon walked through the little living room ignoring Dick and the girls he'd brought calling him to join them. He pushed stills of the hall past him as he floated through space until he came to Ramsay's room. It wasn't locked so he opened the door and rushed through it.

"Hey! Fuu-nnghhhm," Theon bolted up for an instant but was quickly fell, face first, back onto the mattress. His whined turned into a moan while Damon's eyes slowly distinguished the dark and light grays to for a moving pictures. He understood from the slapping sounds and smell of sex before he could see. Theon was on his knees, his wrists were being held behind his back and his face rocked against the mattress while Ramsay slammed into him. Theon's high-pitched grunts almost sounded like little screams.

"Well? _What_?!" Ramsay demanded.

"Can I keep him? Loras? Is he really mine to keep?"

"Yeah, dumbass."

"He thinks he's leaving with Theon." Theon inhaled sharply.

Ramsay stared coldly a moment without stopping. "Break him."

Theon started crying like he was mourning. Ramsay held both wrists in one hand and gripped his hip with the other. Damon found himself next to Theon, looking right into his face until he had eye contact. With every thrust into him, his head snapped back a little. Damon looked between his legs. "She was right. You have a nice dick. I don't think it's bigger than mine. Maybe you were good with it once." He looked back at Theon. His eyes were wide and tears streamed out. "What a waste, huh? At least it had a good, what, year and a half run before you became Ramsay's cunt."

"It's alright. I love his tight little ass and he loves being my bitch, don't you?"

"Yes-yes-Sir."

"Tell Damon, baby."

"I l-love b-being Ramsay's b-bitch."

"You good, Damon?"

"I'd be better with his mouth around my dick."

"You miss me already, Damon? Give me fifteen-twenty minutes," Damon stood and hurried to the door. "I'll be ready!" Ramsay called after him.

"I'm good!" Damon thundered back. "We're good!" He slammed the door.  

It shook it Theon's skull. His skin was tight along the trails the tears had left in their hot wake. Hot and wet, like Ramsay erupting in spurts onto his back.

 

 

 


	81. It Breaks My Heart to Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay pulled the little convulsing, weeping, mess to his chest.

"What's wrong, puppy?"

"Why Loras? Because of me? Please, _please_ , just let him go!"

"It just worked out this way. Damon likes him. We'll all get along fine."

Theon sat up and grabbed Ramsay's arm. "I never did _anything_ with him! I never even _kissed_ him! Please don't let Damon hurt him! We didn't do anything; _we were just kids!_ "

"So?" Ramsay scrunched up his face, indignantly. " _We_ were just kids too." Theon shook his head and collapsed onto the mattress gripping his temples. "What?" 

"Nothing," Theon choked and rolled over. 

Ramsay sprang up and slammed his back onto the mattress. He crawled over Theon and grabbed his wrists. Theon whined and grimaced under the pain. " _Don't you turn your fucking back on me when I'm talking to you!_ "

"I'm sorry," Theon moaned, weeping. "You shouldn't have done those things to me. Don't you understand that? I was just a little boy." Theon hiccuped and coughed, quaking with sobbs.

Ramsay dropped his Reek's wrists and sat on his hips. The anger he felt was cooled by a disorienting confusion and a frostbite within his chest. "What... what are you talking about?"

"I don't think you knew any better... I don't know. That's not... it's not normal for kids to do the things you did to me. I wasn't ready. I wasn't ... I just wanted you to love me." Something broke. Ramsay could hear it snap, sharp in the air. 

"I did love you, I do, I will, always! What are you saying?" Theon was so little curled in a tight ball, shaking and wailing. Little frightened and lonely boy, drowning in some other time. "Stop it! You're upsetting me now!"

"I just wanted to be your friend and you destroyed me." Theon cried with a soft, stumbling voice. "It wasn't fair, Ramsay."

" _YOU ARE NOT FAIR_! I never hated you! YOU HATED ME! I only loved you! I never left you! YOU LEFT ME! The time I had with you kept me alive through all the empty years without warmth or color; and now you're acting like..." Ramsay felt something like anger but cold where anger was hot. He turned on the lamp on his nightstand and pulled out a wooden case. "Look! Look! See?"

He opened the case. Theon parted his fingers and peered through them. He slowly dropped his hands and sat up. "Oh my god. My presents? Is that really my hair?" Theon felt a little rush of warmth. "Did you really like them? I felt so bad. I didn't have anything to give you." He shook his head and wiped his face. "I thought you were just trying to make me feel better." He poked at the little glass vial and it rolled away. "You really kept them?"

"Of course I did." Ramsay held it out for Theon to take. The top and bottom of the case were worn smooth in the center.

Theon squinted and frowned. "Your hands are shaking." He touched Ramsay's hands lightly to see if his eyes weren't tricking him. Ramsay snapped the box shut and put it back in the drawer. "I'm sorry, Ramsay, I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

Ramsay stared at the drawer with a blank expression. "I don't have feelings to hurt." Tears streamed down Theon's face at once. He touched Ramsay's cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know. I think, for both of us. Life shouldn't have been so hard so early before we even had a chance. We were so little. Kids should be loved and cared for. Maybe things would have been different. I think we want to love each other but maybe we never learned the right way how. Maybe trying is the same thing." Theon sank away from Ramsay and wiped his eyes. "What would you do if I died?"

"Shut up. That won't happen now." Ramsay kept frowning, looking away.

"Well, what if you die one night, chasing someone after Damon or going down an alley your father sent you into? What am I supposed to do?!"

"Why worry about that now? I'll be around for decades."

"Do you... do you want me to kill myself?"

"Yeah." Ramsay laughed.

"I'm serious! It's not funny!"

Ramsay turned and let himself fall back onto his pillows. "I don't know. I'll be dead. Do what you want."

"Really?" Theon wrapped his arms around himself.

"If mum's still around, you should go live with her. Someone has to take care of you. I don't know, do what you want. Don't touch anyone and don't let anyone fuck you."

"Oh."

Ramsay studied his Reek. He looked lost already. Ramsay rubbed his leg. "This is why people have religion, huh?"

"What?"

"It makes me sad to think you'll be alone without me. I wish I could believe in heaven. I didn't understand before, but it's a nice thought... that we could always be together."

Theon put a hand on Ramsay's. He stopped rubbing his Reek's leg and just held his hand in silence for a while. Theon watched Ramsay staring at the ceiling. He seemed so vulnerable and cold at once. Theon felt it too; like aching stone. So heavy, so tired, he wanted to rest on Ramsay's chest if it only looked a degree warmer. Ramsay sighed and Theon slid towards him.

"Where would you have gone if you drove away in my car?" Ramsay asked suddenly.

"What? Nowhere, there's nothing for me." Theon straightened and looked towards the balcony again. He longed to part the curtains and see a sunlit world again.

"What would you do if you ran away then?"

"I wouldn't!"

"Shh." Ramsay laid next to Theon and slid two fingers into his mouth. "Of course you wouldn't, pet. You've spent a lot of time alone in my room, in our bed. I know you've thought about ways to leave me. I won't be angry if you tell me about them but, if you hide those bad thoughts from me, I'll know you mean them."

"Whah?" Theon whined and his chest sunk.

Ramsay tongue slid across the ridges of his teeth. "Just tell me, quickly. I know when you're stalling and lying." He pulled out his fingers and slid them in between Theon's ass cheeks. "Where would you go if you'd stolen my car? To the Tyrell's?"

"No! Fuck no! They'd sell me out before my car's engine cooled in their driveway."

"Even Loras?"

"No! I promise! I never had a plan to see Loras! I'd just have to keep going. Just pick an interstate and keep going."

"Where would you get money?"

"I don't know," he whispered.

"I bet you have an idea, don't you?" Ramsay pulled out the Xacto knife from the top drawer. 

"You don't have to do this. You can just talk to me, please!"

"Do you have to go to the bathroom before we start? I don't want you to piss yourself in my bed."

"Ramsay," Theon whispered, nearly hysterical. " _I'm not eight anymore_!"

"Yeah, _I know_. You're stalling." Ramsay took his bruised wrist and slit his lily white forearm. Blood popped up in one drop, then three, the eight, then it started making a bright red streak to Ramsay's hand. "Where would you get money from?"

"I'd try to get help from my one of my uncles!"

"Where would you go?"

"Don't take it from me! It's just a dream!" Ramsay carved a second line.

"Everyone's going to think your fucking crazy." Ramsay murmured sweetly. "Just like Jon did. Everyone walks away from a fuckup, don't they? Everyone you could reach out to will be dying to think I'm helping you, just so they can wash their hands of you. I bet you won't be so charming to all those little girls when they see you falling apart. Where would you go, baby? What's your little dream?"

"To try to go to Cuba! I have friends in Cuba, they called me 'cousin' I used to fantasize about running from the Starks and finding them. I know they'd take me in until I got on my feet. They could help me get a new identity with enough money."

"Cuba?" Ramsay sneered and cut his wrist again. The flesh split. It was white and spongy until the blood gushed forth through the crack. Ramsay set the blade down and kissed his Reek deeply. He pulled away and opened the bottom drawer of the nightstand. "You're going to write down their names for me. Everyday you're going to write me two pages of your little dreams and clever ideas. If they're not good enough, I'll have to punish you. I know when you're lying. I _hate_ when you hide things from me, and I won't stop until I sniff your little plans out. If you run out of escape ideas, you'll have to write me all the other bad ideas you think. Reek, do you have any idea how upset I would be if Loras stole you from me?"

"He won't! He won't! I'd never do that! Just send him home-" Theon froze as Ramsay slid a glass frame out of the drawer. 

"I have other presents for you. I think it's time you have them. I only had your gifts, a few photos, and this," he ran his finger across the cold glass, "all those years you were gone. It should have been you, safely here with me. Who knows how many times you almost died; then what would I have done? Try to comfort myself with this for the rest of my life? It's not living; doesn't _react_. I think I'll hang it on the bedroom door to remind you not to leave. I don't want you go through any door in this house I don't open for you. Here, you want to look at it?" Theon backed up until the chain to ankle was pulled taut and stopped him. "No? You didn't miss it? It's so little compared to your lovely scar."

Theon began to hyperventilate. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Reek, listen to me. I need you to know this. If Loras tries to steal you from me, I will skin him alive."

 


	82. Something You Can Never Eat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I bought you lots of new things to wear to school, but this is my favorite."

Ramsay cuffed Theon's arms under his biceps and crossed his arms over his head. He chained the cuffs to the head board and his free ankle to the footboard. Theon let himself be moved like a doll. He stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to understand everything but unable to hold clear thought in his collapsed mind.

Ramsay threw a shopping bag beside his pet. He climbed over him and kissed his closed mouth. His teeth closed down into the sweet, soft, flesh of his Reek's bottom lip.

"Ah, ah!" Theon opened his mouth as Ramsay bit down and pulled his lip. He lurched back onto Theon's mouth and forced his tongue in. A hot rush passed through Theon in shimmering waves. He pulled back, shuddering, and Ramsay bit into his tongue pulling him closer again. He could feel Ramsay smile, the way his lips parted. He kissed his Reek back down into the mattress, pulled back and lounged at his neck. Theon cried out as Ramsay sucked and bit harshly. "Aren't you ever tired?!" he heard himself whine. He was pretty sure he only meant to think that. Everything had such energy suddenly.

Ramsay sat up and rubbed his Reek's leg. He pulled something out of the bag. Theon curled his head in to peer over his chest, but he couldn't tell what it was. "Will it hurt?" he whimpered, defeated.

"No. It's a present, not a punishment. It's for you to wear when you go back to school but, I couldn't wait, so I want you to try it for me tonight."

Theon dropped his head and closed his eyes. A rush of light buzzed through his body and left him with a slight sparkling sensation. "Something's weird... I think I'm having a flashback or something." Something cold and smooth slid up around his balls. "What is that?! What are you doing?" He tried lifting his head again. Ramsay smiled with a curling corner of his mouth. He pulled the cold circle up further and pressed Theon's cock through it. He pushed the circle back until it stopped against Theon's thick brown hair. Something cold and hard cupped his cock snuggly. Ramsay pushed it into the circle. It clicked three times. "What the fuck is that?! What is it? What are you doing?!"

"Stay still." Ramsay popped a tiny padlock open and pinched the shackle.

"NO!" Theon tried to jump and pull loose somewhere but it was hopeless.

Ramsay stopped and raised an eyebrow. He blinked and looked up with frozen eyes and a smile still clinging to his mouth. "What did you say?"

"Please! Please, don't!"

"I told you to stay still. You're bleeding all over my bed. How much more do you want to bleed tonight?" Ramsay ran his tongue over his sharp canines. His eyes were dancing. "Be good and we'll have a nice night after this."

Theon dropped his head. His chest was heaving. _I hate you. I hate you for everything._

"There. Perfect. It doesn't hurt, does it? I have a copy of this key in a very safe place. As long as you're good you'll ony have to wear it at school. It will keep you safe and out of trouble. There's an- 

There was a knock on the door. "Christ!" Theon whispered hysterically. "Master, _please_!"

"Aw, your manners are better already." Ramsay pulled sheets up to his Reek's stomach. "WHAT?"

Damon cracked the door open. "Food's here."

"Ok, thanks."

"Um..."

"Is anyone with you?"

"No."

"My wallet's on the floor in my jeans. Just take what you need and tip well." Damon stumbled in and felt around, making his way to the floor. He groped around the floor until he found a leg. He snapped the jeans off the floor and the wallet, a knife, and keys went flying. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Ramsay jumped off the bed.

"My eyes aren't adjusting, asshole!"

"Here. HERE! Put out your hand."

Damon reached out into the dark and Ramsay guided his hand. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" Damon leapt back. "Fuck you!" He scrambled to standing with his back against the wall.

Ramsay curled in on himself laughing. "I told you I'd be ready! Oh, fine, take your money." Ramsay crept to him and shoved a roll of twenties down along his hipbone into his boxers. He patted Damon's face as he tried to stretch out of Ramsay's reach. "You're not leaving right, buddy? Do you like your new toy?"

Damon could make out Theon chained to the bed now, his head slunk over in a defeat Damon had tasted. "Yeah, I'm not leaving, Ramsay."

"Hey! Did you want those poppers? I have a few more."

"Yeah, thanks." Ramsay went into his bathroom. Theon noticed how different Damon looked against the wall, how small he seemed. He wasn't taking revenge against Theon now. He didn't stare with sympathy exactly, but it was something like sympathy. Ramsay came back and swooped his jeans off the floor. "Hey, your buddy's kind of bleeding a lot."

Ramsay glanced over his shoulder. "Oh yeah, I know." He tossed a handful of bottles to Damon. They bounced off his wide chest. "Christ." Ramsay pulled his jeans on and approached Damon slowly. "You ok? You're not freaking out are you? Did you take something else?"

"No, no. I'm fine. I'm just...," Damon lowered his voice, "confused. I don't know." He slid along the wall towards the door.

"It's ok. Wait." Ramsay slid ahead of him and shut the door. He whispered. "Just say that word one more time. Just whisper it in my ear. In the kitchen, in your new apartment, what did you say. I liked it so much. Just say it in my ear just once and I'll let you go."

Damon tried holding onto the wall. He looked around the floor and swallowed. Ramsay leaned in close. Damon wrapped his arms around himself and whispered the word into Ramsay's ear. Ramsay touched his cheek and opened the door for him. "Go have fun. I'll be out soon but just come get me if you need to."

Ramsay shut the door behind Damon and came over to his favorite possession. He kissed his Reek's forehead and unchained his cuffs from the floorboard and headboard until he was free. "Do the arm cuffs bother you very much? They look so cute. You can wear your shorts. Let's go eat. Fuck, you look just perfect, pet. How do you feel?"

"How do I feel?" Theon sat up.

Ramsay sat half way on the bed beside him and rubbed his leg. "Yeah, you feeling pretty good?"

"Pretty good?" Ramsay tilted his head and frowned a little, narrowing his eyes. Theon sprang onto Ramsay knocking him to the floor. He got in one hit, grazing Ramsay's right eye, before Ramsay caught his wrists. "YOU BASTARD!"

 

 


	83. Tell-Tale Corpse Rises to the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "YOU FUCKED HIM! YOU FUCKED HIM!"

Ramsay looked up at Theon from the carpet with nothing but a raised eyebrow over razor eyes, and held his wrists tight.  

"I KNOW YOU FUCKED HIM, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!" Theon thrashed against Ramsay's grip, not feeling pain, or anything but the howling inferno climbing from his heart to the ends of his hair, burning through his eyes, whipping across his fingertips. The fire suddenly caught in Ramsay's eyes. They grew large and wild. A rabid smile warped his face and made Theon's throat and lungs snap shut with a cold clang that reverberated inside him. "It's not funny!" he whined with the wisp of air he could force out. "It's BULLSHIT! YOU'RE MINE! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE MINE TOO!" Theon's voice cracked and he sunk forward crying, "I'm yours and you're mine! That's what you told me! _That's who you made me_!"

Ramsay tilted his head a little and wrapped his twisting fingers, constricting around Theon's wrists with a giddy laugh.

"Ah! Why are you _doing this shit to me?_ Why are you torturing me if you're already bored with me?! JUST THROW ME AWAY THEN! I DIDN'T _WANT_ TO LOVE YOU! Just kill me! Fucking kill me then! HAVE A GREAT LIFE WITH DAMON!" Ramsay kept smiling, the fire dancing in his howling wide eyes. 

***

Ramsay came closer and Damon found himself backing up. "You  _know_  that you're the only person who's ever helped me out. Yeah, yeah! I love you, ok? I love you."

"Don't shrink from me. I won't hurt you. Here," he pulled something out his pocket and cupped it in his hands. "lean in real close and I'll show you the surprise. This is going to feel  _incredible_."

"What is it?"

"Something new, it's like a whippit-"

"You told me not huff shit! You got all pissy about it, ha ha." Damon smiled and sank to the side.

"Because it's fucking stupid, shithead. Just- this much safer, it _might_ give you a headache; it won't kill you. Look, I bought it in a store and everything. It doesn't last too long, but it makes the high a lot more intense; you won't believe it. Exhale." Ramsay slipped his fingers around the back of Damon's head, through his soft, dandelion hair and pulled him down to the little bottle. It looked like a shot of energy drink you could get at a gas station. "Hold your breath, Damie." 

"Uh..." Damon's mouth felt dry. He pulled back. "I don't-"

Ramsay covered his mouth and shoved his head against the wall. "Here, so this is what we do now." Ramsay squeezed the bottle between his arm and ribs and opened it with his free hand. He brought it to Damon's nostrils and pinched them shut. "Come on, Damie, be a good boy. Ready? Close your eyes and take a nice deep breath for me." He released one nostril and stuck the bottle under it. His long golden brown lashes clamped shut and he inhaled deeply. "Good boy!" He purred and the velvet words wrapped round and round Damon's lost mind and the world suddenly fell away behind the icy silver eyes he could hardly track. "One more time. Ready?" Ramsay covered his other nostril and switched sides. " _Breathe deep_ , for me."

It did feel incredible. Soaring in a dumb bliss, alone together in a world held no one and nothing else. His mind was swept away. His fingertips floated somewhere in space, outside his blurred vision, and they were electric. He heard something falling and felt Ramsay under him, wrapping around his chest. His warm touch was dazzling. The smooth stone tile felt so cool on his back. Ramsay helped him sink, guiding the back of his head, then laying it carefully on the tile. The kitchen light left a trail along the path he followed to the floor. He took the fading trail back to the light and it shuddered, then Ramsay came to block it. He wore a new mask, a look, a thought Damon thought he'd hidden so well reflected back to him on Ramsay's face. Ramsay kissed him, hungry and deep. He grabbed the sides of Damon's head and swept them up through his hair. 

"Oh shit," Damon heard himself say, but he didn't think he cared. It felt so good. His skin was wonderful buzzing sheets of ice, Ramsay's hands were so hot they melted him everywhere they touched. "Oh shit!" 

"Does that feel good, Damie? Tell me you want me. Tell me now." Ramsay dropped into the dark and the kitchen light stammered it discreet little flashes. 

"Uh..." he tried to move someway, but he was too lost to time and place, to lost in these magic, flowing, sensations. Something soft zipped down his waist, down his legs, to his ankles. "Ah!" The sensation was like millions of joyous, dancing pinpricks racing down his legs. "Ok, yeah, yeah. I want you. Don't stop whatever you're doing... where are you?" Ramsay came before the light and ceiling again and kissed him. His wrists were pushed to the floor. The soft warmth on one side and cold smoothness on the other made him groan and shudder. "Everything feels so..."

"I know, sweetheart. Get me ready, so I can give you the best fucking feeling of your life." Damon opened his mouth to ask something, something he should be asking, when Ramsay's hot, wet tongue came in swirling. Damon moaned and closed his eyes. "Good boy, Damie." Hot, hard, salty skin took up his mouth then. His eyes shot open, but rolled back uselessly.  _Oh, fuck. This isn't real._ It was too good to be real, he must have passed out. 

Ramsay disappeared with all his heat, movement and pressure. "Ramsay?" The word oozed from his mouth like syrup. "Oh fuck!" He found Ramsay's eyes like setting suns on the horizon. "Oh, fuck, what are you doing to me?"

"Does it feel good, Damie?"

"Yes, yes, fuck, oh fuck. Oh, no. You fucking did it, _fuck_!" 

It went on and on and nothing else else existed. Damon heard himself echoing the rolling waves and shocks of staggering euphoria. It radiated out from his material form into the black, empty world around him.

"Yeah, I own you, don't I, Damie?" 

"Rrrr, fuck! Yes, fuck!"

"It feels amazing, doesn't it?" Everything was lost but his voice and the intense, rolling, bursts of exquisite bliss gripping him. It was nothing like the building pressure and release of sex, it had to be the drugs and some kind of magic.  

"Yes," rolled out of him.

"You're not going to try to leave me, are you? You're not going to try to hide bad things from me again, _are you_?"

"No!"

"You're _mine_." The word shattered any walls left.

"Yes, daddy-" Damon froze and sobered for an instant. "No!" He found Ramsay's face and knew he heard. "No, no, no..."

"Oh, Damie," Ramsay gripped Damon's legs and bit his lip, Damon gasped and arched his back, "ha ha, what a lovely gift you just gave me. You're my boy, Damon. I fucking own your ass. I'll take care of you, I'll give you some freedom, and if you ever pull some shit like trying to move away again, your daddy's gonna come find you and I'll make you so fucking sorry."

"Stop, stop! Ok, I won't! I won't ever leave you! I swear! You own me, ok?!"

"Ok, ok, buddy." Ramsay fell forward and crawled up on Damon's chest. "Are you coming down already?"

"A little." Damon stared at the dark above him. All his walls, all these years he thought he was so safe behind them, they'd all burned down. 

"You'll be happy here," Ramsay told him soft as his hand sweeping across  Damon's cheek. "You can have your own place, your own toy, your own car. You can fuck who you want, go where you want, as long as you come home."

He swallowed and blinked. "Ok."

"What do you want, Damon? You want me to stay with you? You want me to get your new toy or help you inside?"

"Just leave me alone. I just want to be alone."

Ramsay sat up. "Are you coming back inside?" He pulled a full condom off. Damon looked away as he threw it in the trash.

"Yeah."

"Soon?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Ramsay turned Damon's face back and kissed him. He smiled as he got dressed and hummed to himself as he left. 

Damon laid on the floor in the dark until he was too cold to stand it any longer. He wandered through the dark yard. He stopped on the patio and looked back. The apartment was just a trap Ramsay had laid behind his house but it was quiet and empty. It took a few tries to convince himself to open the screen door and step inside. 

***

"Reek," Ramsay said at last, still smiling. " _Take it back_."

 

 


	84. You Can Hit Me All You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Take what back?!"

"You're stupid necklace, Theon!" Jodie cried over the music. Most people had stopped talking to stare and laugh or whisper. She ripped it off her neck and threw it at him. She looked around at the people watching her, laughing at at how stupid she was. How could she believe his bullshit when everyone warned her? Because it felt so _real_. Because she thought she was different.

He pulled out of the arms of a tall, thin, blond and stumbled off the couch to her follow her. "Wait, Jodie, I got that for you! It's a peacock feather because you love Hera-"

"God!" She ripped the controller from Robb's hand and hurled it at Theon's head. He ducked and it bounced off the wall, smacking Jon's shin. 

"Hey!" Jon yelled, rubbing his leg. Kyra jumped off Jon's lap and grabbed her purse off the floor. He looked up at her, dismayed. "Wha- where are you going?"

"I'm taking this poor girl home."

"What?! Kyra, Jodie, you don't have to leave. I don't understand, you never asked to be my girlfriend!"

"You took my virginity! You made me feel like you cared!" She took a shoe from the floormat by the door and threw it at him. He dodged it. One of Robb's friends jumped out of the way and it bounced towards the kitchen. 

"I do care, Jodie!"

"Really? 'Cause you're saying that with someone else's lipstick on your mouth! Why the fuck did you invite me here?!"

"Because I'm not _hiding_ anything! I ... I thought you knew what this was! Hey, come on, babe, let's just talk about it." He held out her necklace and took a step towards her. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry."

"I hope you know what this feels like one day." Her face dropped into her cupped hands, and she filled them with tears and teenage heartache.

"I tried, honey," Kyra mumbled, rubbing the girl's back. "He didn't even notice." She looked at Jon. "Sorry, sweetheart."

Jon crossed his arms and frowned sourly. "Oh, _of course_."

Kyra lead Jodi out, talking soothingly to her. Theon followed them and caught her saying something about 'conceited asshole'.

"WHAT?!" He yelled from the stoop as they stormed down to the long driveway. "WELL, YOU'RE THE ONE THAT USED EMO BOY! HE'S PROBABLY GOING TO CUT HIMSELF NOW, SO _WHAT DOES THAT MAKE YOU_?!" Theon watched Kyra's car rip out of the driveway. The car's red lights flew away through the empty street and disappeared around the corner. Theon sighed and headed back.

Jon was looking out the doorway. "Guess that's why you don't bring your friends over, huh?"

"Oh, fuck off, Snow." He slammed the door shut and went back to find a hard drink. He held the necklace over the kitchen garbage can, but couldn't drop it. He ended up folding it in his hand and keeping it in his jacket pocket.

"Hey, I couldn't help but notice you staring at that kid who freaked out. Do you know him? Is he ok?"

Jodie was standing in line at lunch when a handsome new boy with clear, soft, gray eyes came up to her. "Yeah, Theon. He's not ok, he's a jerk. He's probably freaked out on drugs or something. Maybe he finally got an STD and its making him crazy."

"Is he bothering you?" The boy's voice was so soft, his expression so earnest.

"He broke my heart. I guess I'm, like, one of a hundred or something. I don't even matter to him, and I'm still..." she wiped her eye and shook her head. 

"Wait, Theon  _Greyjoy_? That kid crushed my little cousin. Hey, you want to help me get back at him?" A smile blossomed under Jodie's red eyes and she nodded. "Could you show me which car is his?"

***

"Take it back?" Theon asked and stopped thrashing. "You mean... you didn't do it?"

" _Nooo,_  I mean," Ramsay pushed up on Theon's swollen wrist with his thumb, and down with his fingers, "take what you said back  _now_ and don't  _ever_ say that word to me again _."_

 _"_ Ah, ah!" Theon winced but pushed through the sickening feeling. " _That's_ what you fucking care about? Fine! No, I didn't mean it. I take it back; you're not a bastard. Y _ou're a fucking monster_." 

"Say you're sorry." Ramsay's mouth hung just a little open, his tongue curled up by his bottom teeth. He looked like a cat watching a mouse from a shadow.

"I'M SORRY _?!_ " 

"Good." Ramsay laughed. He loosened his grip and Theon shot out of his hands. Theon scrambled back and snatched Ramsay's keys and Damon's switchblade from where they'd landed on the carpet. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Ramsay sat up on his elbows and tilted his head. "You're not supposed to touch the floor and now you're standing? How do you plan on convincing me not to break your ankle?"

Theon groaned and switched the keys and knife to his left hand. "My wrist! Look what you did to my fucking wrist!"

"Yeah, I was surprised you didn't scream. Guess the pill's working huh? Put the knife down, honey."

"GOD! It's fucking warped!" Theon stared at his right hand; swollen, shaking, useless. His chest heaved with silent sobs. He could hardly move his thumb. He looked around frantically for the shorts Ramsay had given him. Ramsay seemed amused by the show. He stood up and walked to his desk. Theon popped the blade out and inched around the bed. His eyes darted from Ramsay to the floor until he found the shorts by the balcony.

Ramsay pulled his desk chair in front of the bedroom door and sat down. "Alright, so, you're upset. Why don't you come here, sit down and we'll talk, ok?"

"Uh huh. Ok, I'm listening." Theon stopped to pick up his shorts, but his fat, red, right hand wouldn't grip the slick fabric. He looked up at Ramsay across the room and back at the shorts.

"Go ahead. It's cute to watch you." Ramsay rested his elbow on the armchair and held his head in his hand. "I'm just sitting here." Theon kept his eyes on Ramsay as he squatted down. He dropped the knife and grabbed the shorts. Pain had fled from him and his skin started shimmering. He leg seemed to sink into the floor until his face smacked against the carpet. Ramsay lept up. "Give me the knife, before you fucking kill yourself, you fucking idiot."

"WAIT!" Theon grabbed the knife and shoved it between the thick numb fingers on his right hand and struggled to stand pulling the shorts up with his left. "Did you drug me?!"

"Yeah, I gave you something I thought you'd like. It was supposed to be a surprise gift for you but, I think you're having a bad reaction." Ramsay walked slowly around the foot of the bed, inspecting his Reek closely.

"Stay away!" Theon brandished the knife, hopped back and slammed into his nightstand, knocking the lamp on its side and banging his head off the wall.

"STOP! Stop doing things! Fuck! Listen to me; I want you to push the little button on the side of the knife and slide it down until it locks. If you don't pull that fucking blade back into the handle I'm coming to take it and I'm going to hurt you." Theon hung halfway on the nightstand, with and elbow on the headboard. Nothing hurt but he felt like jelly. He slid the blade back until it clicked shut. "Good boy. Now put it on the nightstand. You can go sit on that side of the room, or bleed all over my ruined bedsheets and I'll go sit down in my chair and stay on that side until your stop freaking out, ok?"

"Ok." Theon put the blade down slowly and Ramsay backed away with his hands up. He sat in his leather chair and leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the arm. Theon struggled with the shorts until he had them on. "So, what now?" His voice quivered with the rest of him. "Are you going to kill me?" he grabbed the keys on the floor and started going through them.

"What? Of course not!" Ramsay's manic smiled softened a little. Theon keep going through the keys without looking up. "It is pointless to keep doing that. The keys you want aren't on there. Come on, Reek, you're being hysterical. It was a mistake, the drugs, I wasn't thinking." Ramsay voice dropped into his soothing, lush tones. He spoke calmly and clearly so his poor Reek would have a chance at understanding him. "I'm not getting rid of you, I'd never be able to replace you. I'm keeping you forever, nothing will change that. I love Damon in a _different_ way then I love you. Remember? You told me how he needed someone to fuck and and I'm, you know, his friend? I thought about that and gave him someone to love, fuck, take to movies and whatever the fuck people do; rowboating... picnics, all that shit."

Reek didn't seem convinced.

"What?! It's not _me_! It's your friend, Loras. Won't you like to have a little friend around? Damon's not my _Reek_. I love him like, um, a brother... well, not like  _my_ brother. I don't know!" Ramsay leaned back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head. "The important thing is, I don't love him like I _love_ you. If he died, I'd be sad, but it wouldn't ruin my life. Alright? Do you understand?"

"I don't _understand_ why you're FUCKING HIM!" Theon hurled the keys at a painting on Ramsay's wall. They smacked into the glass with a crack, and dropped. The frame slowly tilted, then slid to a crash on the floor.

Ramsay stared at it on the floor a moment. He looked back at Theon as if they were sharing a joke. Theon's stomach dropped as Ramsay giggled. "Jesus, I didn't think you'd be jealous. I'd be more angry if you weren't so fucking adorable. Listen, listen, I didn't  _make love_ to him, ok? I just put him back in his place, that's it!" Ramsay raised a palm in the air, showing that it couldn't be simpler.

"You don't 'make love' to me either, don't fucking kid yourself-"

"HEY-"

"You're _sick_! You don't understand what love is,"

"Ok, don't say things you can't take back because-"

"- you delusional, sadistic, psychopath! You can't _give_ people to someone like a fucking gift card!"

"- I won't forget shit, like that, long after your temper tantrum is over."

Theon rested his head on the wall. "You hurt him." Theon saw his arms tremble like they were giving out. His blood was crusting on arm. It looked like rust with a bright red streaks still leaking out the center. "You hurt your 'best friend' in the worst way you could hurt another person. But go ahead, tell me why I'm wrong and you really 'love' the people you tear apart."

"What? No! No, no, no! See, look, you're all confused about shit! I didn't HURT him!" Ramsay laughed and threw up his hands. "I went out of my way _not to hurt him_! I used a condom, and lube, and poppers so he'd be loose. There was no blood, he didn't cry or tell me to stop; he's fine! Ok? See?" Ramsay smiled warmly and crossed his arms. "Don't you feel a little silly now?" Theon just stared, gaping at him. " _What?!_ I didn't even like it! Is that why you're upset? _I love fucking you!_ I want to fuck you all the time, baby. I'll probably _never_ fuck him again. The mechanics of it; his thighs are like tree trunks, trying to-" Ramsay jumped out of his chair as Theon grabbed the lamp and threw it at his head. It smashed the door, right above the chair's back. Ramsay sat up and looked behind him. "Wow, you did that left-handed, huh?"

" _PROBABLY?!_ " 

"What the fuck was that?" Loras cried and gripped Damon's arm. "That's it! I have to help him!"

"No, don't. It's alright..." Damon rubbed his forehead. There'd been muffled shouting and banging, and thuds coming from Ramsay's room for awhile now, and slowly but surely everyone started staring at him. He sighed audibly. "Alright, alright. I'll go. You stay here, you'll only... ugh. Skinner, Dick, make sure he doesn't get near that room." When he stood, Alyn stood with him. Damon smiled a little, then took a deep breath and they walked down the hall together. 

"You'll _PROBABLY_ never do it again?!"

"Ok," Ramsay rose up from behind the bed, "I know you're upset, but you have to stop yelling at me. I want you to step away from the iron headboard, ok? Why don't you sit on the beanbag chair? It's under the bed."

"That's a trick!" Theon's shoulders shook and he found himself crying and feeling weak.

"Then sit on the bed, puppy. Sit down, and get your head away from there. If you do, I'll sit in the chair again, ok? If not, I'm coming to get you, and I'll have lost my fucking patience. I'm going to count to five."

"Oh my god,"

"One."

"the blood."

"Two."

"You're just waiting for me to pass out."

"Three."

"Ok, ok. I'll get in the corner. Stay away, stay away from me!" He grabbed the knife and backed into the corner. He started to feel disoriented and dizzy. He swayed into the wall and stared at the balcony.

"Oh, please, be my guest. Jump out the balcony and break your legs for me." Ramsay came slowly closer. 

Theon nearly screamed. "No, no! You said you'd go back to the chair!"

"I know, puppy. I lie sometimes but it's for your own good. We had to get your head away from that metal. I'll have to get something with rounded edges for us. You look very pale now. We need to stop that bleeding."

"No! No! Please! Stay back." Theon brandished the knife and crawled uselessly up against the corner. His hand was shaking as Ramsay separated into twin holograms that tried to join back together. 

"REEK, DO NOT POP THAT FUCKING BLADE."

Theon drew a labored breath and pushed the button. Then he slammed the knife into his heart and slumped over. He found himself swimming in dark silence. A word echoed, without substance, in the storm, above the waves.

"Reek?"

_No, no. Let me go. Let me die._

"Reek?"

His eyes fluttered open against his will. Color and light broke into the calm, black depths.  _Let me drown here._

"Are you with me?"

Ramsay eyes crystalized first. He was holding Theon up against the bed by his shoulders. 

"Uh huh," his head drooped. His stomach was churning acid and the world was spinning.

"Good." Ramsay smiled and knocked him back to the floor. 

 

 


	85. Not Afraid to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ogh, ogh, ooo," Theon wailed and grabbed the side of his face.

He scraped along the floor, inching away from Ramsay who towered above like a tsunami wave. The white, roaring crest was in his eyes as he started to crash down. Theon threw out his heavy, many colored hand in a plea for Ramsay to stop, and he did. He knelt and changed faces again. "Oh, baby," he pursed his lips to stop a mad smile from breaking out across his face, "what happened?"

"Aye aw oke!" He gripped his head again in buzzing panic. His mouth wouldn't close, he couldn't move it. He pulled at his hair and whined.

"What did you say?" Ramsay leaned in courteously.

"Aye aw! AW!" He pointed to his open jaw, hanging off to one side.

"You have to speak a little more clearly." Theon's chest sank and his red and blue painted head fell in after it. He whimpered so high and mournfully it made Ramsay think of his little bloodhound puppy.

At just a year old she was the best tracking dog he'd ever had. Ramsay found her at the first trailer park Damon lived in. She was crying in the dumpster, all ribs and fleas. There were ticks in her ears and she yelped whenever he touched her for days. Her collar said 'Snowflake.' He threw it back in the dumpster and renamed her so she would know she was never going back to the trailer park or the shitstain that hurt her. He named her Diana so she would feel brave and honored, but called her Di because she was still a silly, floppy little thing. Ben made her a collar with an arrow like the crescent moon.

She was always so happy to see him that her wobbly little legs would keep slipping on her blankets as though they'd turned to ice. Her sad droopy face, loose wrinkles, and big flapping ears would jiggle and shake as she ran across the soft rubber floor to greet him. She'd come singing her little baritone doo wop to make him happy. She could track anything and anyone. She loved to learn because she lived to please him. She always knew when he needed affection and when it was time to work. Even Father had come to deem her, "Quite useful."

Yet, Domeric hated the way she howled all night. He complained that she kept startling his fucking show horse, Troy. The horse he hardly road anymore. The horse Father paid _people_ to train, _people_ to groom, _people_ to feed and care for. Ramsay cared for all his girls himself. He helped Ben build the pen, he helped Ben clean it. He trained them, he walked them, he washed and feed them and they were grateful. They trusted and needed him. They loved him, and Di loved him most. She was taken away before she even grew into her soft little paws with the scratchy pads like hard leather.

Domeric couldn't possibly understand how alone she felt when Ramsay left her in the pen. A little dog _would_ feel afraid being left in the pen with Ramsay's killers, even if the pen was much nicer than the trailer park and even if she did belong there. She only wanted the person who tried to protect her, who worked so hard to do what was best for her, who thought she was precious when everyone else saw something sick. He gave her hugs, treats and kind words; sweet little things even predators with sharp teeth need. She was only a puppy, she needed someone to love her, but Father sold her to guard an impound lot when Domeric kept complaining.

Domeric never suffered separation like that. Like their father, he didn't seem to suffer at all. When his horse died, days after Father had given Di away to please him, Domeric didn't bat an eye. He just walked into Ramsay's room that night and announced that all Ramsay's dogs together weren't worth a purebreed, prize-winning, stallion, _bastard_. Ramsay just told him through clenched teeth that the German Shepards hadn't made a sound all night. "You got what you wanted, like you always do. So what the fuck else do you want? You want me to mute my game? Is Troy down the hall sleeping with you? Did I wake him?"

Domeric stayed a moment, blinked, and left. He must have realized Ramsay didn't even know the damn thing was sick but, if he saw his mistake, he never seemed to care. It wasn't revenge to Domeric, it was judgement. It was tactical, but he didn't know his enemy. Ramsay is very patient. When Locke came to tell Ramsay that Domeric was dead, two years later, he _did_ know already. Only Father doubted his grief because it was real. Even though two hollow years had passed without his poor, innocent, girl and four without his little Theon. His grief was fresh and overwhelmed him at last. He was still mad with it when Theon came to the funeral. 

He found Theon was lost and unwanted. Ramsay renamed him so he'd know he'd never be lost or unwanted again. The sound alone brought back feelings which couldn't be illuminated with words. He felt so many years at once, yet also immediately present. He blinked. "Come here, my Reek. Let me fix it." 

"Oo! Oo! Eassh!" Reek whimpered pitifully and treaded on the carpet, trying to push and claw himself under the bed with his injured limbs.

Ramsay was happy, and he is so patient. "Come here, baby." He grabbed Reek's ankles and pulled him back out, screaming. 

"Ramsay?" Damon cracked the door open.

Ramsay looked up and Reek grabbed onto the bed frame with his good hand. Damon stepped in, cautiously. "Oh, yeah, the noise. It's fine. He's fine." He leaned forward and yanked Theon's ankles back causing him to lose his grip. 

"Are... um," Damon looked behind him and shrugged. Alyn pushed the door open and came in looking miserable as usual. 

"Shut the door!" Ramsay pulled Reek up to standing. "I'm just going to-"

"WOA!"

"Oh," Alyn took a step back.

"What? It's not as bad as it looks. I just have to wash and wrap him. It's fine, really." Reek was limp in his arms. He was very pale, even his bruises were a lighter hue. He turned Reek to face him. "Aw, puppy, ha ha, did you break your jaw?"

"It's just out of socket." Alyn said flatly. He walked over and felt the hinges of Theon's jaw. "Yeah. Try opening your mouth as wide as you can. You just have move it to get it back in place, that's all."

"Ugh, ugh oh iia oo uh!" he looked like he worried and sorry, but mostly like he was black-out drunk.

"I can't understand you, baby. Let Alyn hel- aw shit!" Reek lurched forward and vomited on Ramsay's stomach. 

"Oh, ah," he swayed and bopped his jaw down and around until it clicked into place.

"Good job." Alyn said it so flatly, no one knew if he was being sarcastic or not.

"Ew, that sounded worse than his puke smells," Damon said walking over with some reservation.

"Great. I  _just_ bought these fucking jeans. Anything else you want to destroy tonight? You are on a real fucking roll. Wanna shoot the television? Throw my laptop from the roof?"

Reek broke like tired child. "I'm sorry, Ramsay! I'll clean it!" He tried to hurry to the bathroom to get a towel. 

"DON'T-" before Ramsay could finish Reek's head swayed back and he fell forward. Damon lunged forward and caught him. "GOD DAMN IT! You elevated your heart rate while loosing blood, then your blood pressure dropped so now you have to STOP doing things so we can keep you from going into shock."

"I'll fix it, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"SHUT UP!" Ramsay took off his jeans and used the clean leg to wipe his stomach. "Ok." He threw his hands out as if to stop everything. "I need him to stop bleeding. Can you set him on the sink for me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Damon said, swooping Reek up in his arms. Alyn opened the door and turned on the light and Damon laid him on the sink's long countertop. Reek shivered and tried to cover the scar on his ribs. "Damn, Ramsay, what are you doing to him?" 

Ramsay stomped in the bathroom and took out his first aid case. "Really, Damon? You have seen and _done_ much worse so fucking spare me the dramatics."

"Yeah, but..." Damon nodded slowly.

"But what? Hold his shoulders, cunt face. Alyn put his feet on two pillows and bring my fucked comforter, please."

"What? Why does Alyn get 'please' and I get 'cuntface'?" Damon held Theon's shoulders. His fingers could almost touch on Theon's thin chest. "Aw, man, he's so ... little. Did he try to kill himself?"

There was white light that went red when he closed his eyes. His feet went up in a soft cloud. They must be dying first, which seemed odd. The cloud brought warmth up to his chest. He started to feel light and loved. This was a wonderful way to die and he was unafraid. He listened to them talking and waited for sun-caressed salt water to wash over him.

" _Of course not!_ He was just ... look at that, ha ha, he used his left hand to stab his the left side of his chest as he was passing out. Look at that range of motion, what's that going to do? It's a _scratch_. It was, you know, for attention. Look, can you sanitize your hands and unwrap that needle for me?"

"Oh, his heart."

"Get out of my light, Damon."

"He was trying to stab his heart with his hand that worked. That's why."

"Thanks, Damon. Thank you for the insight.

"So, that's why he tried to kill himself? You broke his heart?"

"He did _not_ try to kill himself, and _shut your cunt face_ , Damon!"

"Well, it's just, like, if you have to stitch him up, I think that's pretty serious and you might-"

"I MADE THESE CUTS not him! JUST- talk to _him_ if you're so fucking worried! Keep him awake, and let me fucking concentrate."

"Oh, ok. Hey. Hey, wake up, baby- OW!"

"Don't fucking call him that!"

"Oh. I just thought-"

"He's not _your_ baby, cunt face."

"Why 'cunt face'?! What is that- why is that the thing to call me?" Ramsay laughed to himself. "Stop being a fucking asshole, I'm just trying to help!"

Theon opened his eyes. Damon's upside down face formed from blurs and slowly sharpened as he blinked and squinted. "He didn't even like it."

"Hey, Theon. Can I call him that?"

"No."

"Well then what the fuck, Ramsay? Do you remember who you are? I'm Damon."

"I know who the fuck you are. Did you hear me? Did you hear that? He didn't even like it." 

"What?"

"Welp. There all sewed up tight. Alyn, you can go. Tell, uh, Loras and whoever not to worry or come in here. Like, NO ONE ELSE should come in here. Thanks, man." Ramsay watched Alyn until he saw the bedroom door shut. "Hey, _sweetie_ , that's not what I said. I think you should be nice to Damon, he's trying to help you. Didn't you hear him? He was worried about you."

"What are you guys talking about?"

"He thinks you're fat."

"JESUS FUCK!" Ramsay slammed his fist on the counter. "What?!" Why would you say that?! I didn't _say that_!"

"Fat?" Damon looked in the mirror skeptically.

"Well, but you said, 'Oh the mechanics, his-"

"Ok!" Ramsay covered Reek's mouth and smiled up at Damon. "Let's clean up this mess, all of it."


	86. Without You I Would Be Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sit him up, slowly," Ramsay instructed and turned the shower on.

Damon sat Theon up carefully. He gripped the edge of the counter and steadied himself as the comforter slumped off his legs and fell into a pile on the floor. Theon groaned and stared at his knees. His hair like a stray dog's fell covering his face. Damon hoped Ramsay would wash it for him. He was so pale. White, red, blue, purple and yellow, Damon had a hard time shaking the feeling that he'd be taking the kid to the basement to put him in a body bag.

"Ramsay?" 

"What, puppy?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I threw up on you. I tried to tell you but I couldn't." His hair hung in front of his face and his voice was just above a whisper. "I'm sorry I ruined your room."

Ramsay didn't even glance over. "That's not what I'm upset about."

" _I just don't want you to throw me away."_

Theon looked up with his big, heartbroken, bug eyes and Damon wanted to say something encouraging. "Hey, little guy, it will be alright."

"I'm the same age as you," he murmured under a relentless stare.

"Nah, I'll be nineteen soon. I'm graduating this year... hopefully, ha." Theon seemed to get more color in his face so Damon kept talking. He'd didn't really feel high anymore, but he never wanted to talk this much in his damn life. He wondered if this is how Ramsay always felt? Damon looked over at him adjusting the water temperature. He was so strange around this kid. "I'm the same age as Ramsay. He just got held back after the, you know, _incident_." He grinned a little. Ramsay looked over his shoulder and smirked.

"I know that." Damon looked back to Theon and saw his cheeks looked a little warm. He held tightly to the counter.

"Try to stand up for Damon, sweetie." Ramsay held his hand under the running water.

Damon helped Theon up. "I'm _fine_." He pulled back. "What incident?"

"He doesn't like to talk about it."

"Hey, Damon?"

"Yeah?"

"If I'm Ramsay's cunt, what does that make you?" 

Damon thought he misheard but Theon kept staring with a cold intensity he couldn't help but understand. His arms dropped away from Theon's ice shoulders. "What...," he lied.

"I know what you are. What's really going to happen with Loras? Have you thought how that will end up; when you love him even more than you worship Ramsay? Are you even _capable_ of thinking through consequences?" Theon stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "I don't hate you though. I really don't.  _I wish I could_ but, I know better. I want you to find a real nice girl and be happy with her. I decided that I want to help you."

"Help me?" Damon took a step back. Theon was shattering the reality he'd worked so hard to reconstruct. The wound where his walls fell was too fresh. His blood was heating. 

"Yeah, really. I'm serious. You're sweet, you just have to learn how to make women happy. There's so much I can teach you and then you can actually _connect_ with a woman. That's all you're missing, that intimate connection. You're tall and really handsome, and the whole quiet, gentle thing really works for big guys but then, when you have a girl, you have to _DO something_ for her. Do you even know how much better sex is when the woman loves it?"

If his body didn't feel like numb, wet, clay, Damon would have punched Theon in his little broken face. Instead he stood shivering and said in a low, slow, voice, "I know how to work vaginas, you little bitch." Ramsay came up behind Theon and Damon remembered he couldn't choke the cocky little shit to death. At least, not right now.

"Really?" Theon's earnest expression darkened. He smiled slightly but looked just as cold. "Because Evie didn't even know what was happening when I made her come the first time and I thought she dated you for like, six months, right? Is that right? You never heard her scream your name? Michaela's not a screamer, she purrs with her throaty voice and whispers the most amazing shit right into your ear. Have you ever  _felt_ a woman orgasm? How they pulse and tighten around your-" Ramsay grabbed Theon's shorts and dropped them. Damon's stunned glare dropped from Theon's face and exploded into laughing before Theon could cover himself.

Ramsay wrapped his arms around Theon and rested his chin on his shoulder. "Reek, if I'm a bastard what does that make you? I'm in my father's house. He pays a doctor to treat me, a lawyer to free me, and psychologist mask me. He even bought," Ramsay pinched his nose, " _you_ for me. Sometimes people aren't born in their father's house, or with their name," his eyes flashed at Damon, "sometimes one finds you. But you, you were born to your father's wife, the last of their children, and he gave you away. You weren't even a pawn to him, you were an embarrassment the Starks relieved him of. When you nearly died because of his business venture, which didn't even pay off, instead of coming to save his only living child, he sold you to Father. He sold you like a dog. And that's what you are, aren't you? You're my bitch." He pulled Reek's elbows back. When he could no longer cover himself, Reek shuddered and dropped his head. "You're my precious pet." He licked a tear off Reek's cheek, then turned him around. Reek shriveled and pressed into Ramsay's chest. Ramsay's arms came to wrap around him and smooth his mangled hair.

"You weren't angry at Damon before, _Reek_. You were worried for him, weren't you? You told me I hurt him and that I shouldn't have. So why are you trying to hurt him now?" Reek stuttered an exhausted apology, hiding in Ramsay's embrace.

Damon folded his arms into his chest and leaned against the wall. He looked at the cold hard tile, and felt it on his back. He cleared his throat and quickly stepped out onto the carpet. "It's..." he shrugged, "just, forget it... everything."Damon slipped away and Ramsay let him. Once he closed the bedroom door and heard the voices and music in down the hall, he felt much better. As he went down the hall, he even started laughing again.

When he came into the room everyone turned to look at him with fear, admiration and respect. He felt whole again. This was a good room. This was a great, happy room, actually. The music was incredible and washed the filthy sickness away on sweet, fluttering wings. The frozen party warmed again seeing him smile. They were all uneasy when Alyn rushed back to get his keys and leave without a word of explanation.

He founds Loras on the floor holding both hands of one of the girls Alyn brought. They were both grinning and giggling like idiots. She leaned into him laughing and pulled up one of his thick locks of curled hair. It stood straight up a while before slowly collapsing. He looked up at it making an adorable face for her and shrugging. He pretended to try to blow it back and the little whore just seemed to think it was the funniest fucking thing she'd ever seen. Damon walked over and lifted her by her soft little arm. "Hey, hey," she squeaked. She looked up at him with big brown almond eyes. "Oh my god, are you for real?" He gently swung her, jogging along, back to Dick and the other girls. She stumbled right into dancing with her friends.

Loras beamed up at him and waved his hand. "Hi, Damon! Where'd you go? I can't remember!" His mouth was full of gum and he was swaying to the music. Damon grabbed a fistfull of his hair, close to the roots, and lead him to the couch which Skinner decided to jump off of. "Ah! Don't be rough with me! You're too big!" He grinned, showing all his perfect teeth. Damon wrapped a hand around his neck and smiled back. He pulled Loras onto his lap. His grey jeans were all soft little ridges under Damon's fingers. Loras licked his lips and pressed them together. His eyes were black pupils with thin blue lining. Damon wrapped an arm around his back. He fit so well in the crook of Damon's arm and his shirt was as soft as a pillow when the morning alarm is trying to pull you from it.

Damon looked at the small, full mouth and found himself pressing into it. And so he broke into Loras first with his tongue. Loras' chest expanded against Damon's arm. He grabbed Damon's bicep and swallowed against his thumb. Loras moaned in his mouth and ran a hand around the back of his head, pulling him closer. Damon's eyes shot open. He was responding. He wasn't shying away, making excuses, or just laying there and it _did_ change everything. Damon pulled back and looked into those dilated eyes. "Do you feel like we're ... _connecting_?" 

Loras nodded, smiling sadly. "Hey, do you want to talk outside? Alone? Do you smoke?"

"I can get you cigarettes!" He picked up Loras and carried him like his own little treasure.

"Oh, ha, geez um," Loras held on and started laughing. "Holy shit, I feel like I'm gonna need a bigger boat or something." 

"I like how you look at me." Loras stopped laughing and held on as though he was falling. "Don't worry, I got you." Loras swallowed and carried some conflict on his brow. Damon stopped at Ramsay's door and knocked. "Ramsay!"

"WHAT, DAMON?!"

"Can I have Rick's cigarettes?"

Ramsay stomped to the door and opened it. His hair was wet and he only had a towel around his waist. He paused, looking Damon over like he was wearing a clown suit. "Uh, _w_ _hat_?"

"Since he can't smoke, right? If you still have them can I-"

"God damn it, you fucking dumbass." He disappeared behind the door. Loras remembered Theon suddenly. His past seemed so accessible and clear, but the last several hours were a mess of puzzle pieces. "Here!" Ramsay shoved the pack into Damon's chest. "Take his lighter too." He looked up at Loras as smiled cruelly. "All yours, princess," he laughed and smacked Loras' ass before slamming the door in their faces. 

Outside was another world. It was cool and quiet. The moon was out, big and orange in the sky. Damon put Loras down and let him smoke. "Do you think I'm fat?"

Loras exploded. "WHAT?! Are you kidding me? Where? Where?! Where is there any fat on you? Oh, what, are you fishing for compliments? Yeah, you're big, and manly, and ripped and great." Loras kicked a pine cone half-heartedly off the patio and took a long drag. 

"What's wrong?"

Loras looked up, surprised. "I, uh, can I tell you something?"

"Yeah, I want you to."

"I haven't done anything like this since my fiance died. I ... I've just tried to be busy getting... justice? Revenge?" He started pacing in the moon's soft light. "I don't know. I feel like... that I shouldn't be having fun with you. I mean, that I shouldn't be happy. I don't think I've smiled since he died. It doesn't feel right. It feels like a betrayal. I don't want to forget him. I don't _want_ to be ok without him. I can't."

"Shit. I'm sorry. Like, you want him in your heart, right? So he's not all the way gone? Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah, exactly. I'm supposed to have him. He's supposed to be here! If I let go, then he'll really be gone. I still feel like... isn't there something I can do? There just has to be some way... _I was supposed to protect him._ Can't I make it right? Can't I get just one more chance?" Loras dropped his cigarette and the rubbed it out with the ball of his foot until it looked like sawdust. "One second, one instant, he was there and the next he was gone. What can happen in an instant that's irreversible? What could have happened that I can't undo if I just..." he looked at his hands. "I thought I could do anything. Well?! What do I do now? There has to be something I can do!"

Loras looked up from his hands and found Damon listening. He ached with each sharp breath he drew. "I keep having these dreams, _every fucking time I sleep_ , that he's alive. He tells me to get out of bed and I won't. I don't want to wake up. I want to stay there with him. _Why won't he let me_?"

Damon rushed to lift and hold him. Loras couldn't cry, but he shuddered all the same. "I'm sorry you hurt so bad. I'll help you get Stannis, ok? I don't know how else to help you but, I can help you with that."

Minutes passed before Loras sat up in his arms. "You can't, you know, like me too much, ok? Look, I promised myself I wouldn't talk about this but, when Stannis is dead I am going to sleep and I'm not waking up. I don't want to hurt anyone I don't have to-"

Damon covered Loras' mouth and shoved him against the house. "Then I'll just have to keep you after we kill him, won't I?"

 

 

 


	87. Something in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold fear shimmered on Loras' skin.

"Ha, ok. Wow, you know, I don't meet too many guys taller than me and you have what, like four or five inches on me? I'm used to being the big one, heh. Hey! Why don't we go inside and you can tell me why you're not playing football or something?" The brick scratched his back, it was probably pitting his shirt out.

Damon lightly pressed his forehead to Loras'. "You wanna talk to those girls?"

"What?!" Loras burst out laughing. "I mean, sure, I like talking to people. Like," he tried to catch his breath, "you look so solemn, what are you asking?" Damon smiled a little and took him inside. "Oh, it's really intense for me right now. How are you feeling?"

"It pretty much wore off, I think." Damon shut the door behind them with one hand.

"How long does it last?" Loras' eyes seemed to twitch.

"Well, it's usually gone by morning. You should drink some water."

Loras held onto Damon's shoulders. "I've never done drugs before. I didn't think it would be like this. I'm feeling kind of nervous now. I never feel nervous, ha. I don't like it." He grimaced and chewed his thumb nail.

"Don't worry, I got you." Damon kept staring at Loras as he carried him upstairs.

"You're sweet but, you don't have to that, crazy." Suddenly his face lit up. "Oh yes! I hear the music! Let's go!" Loras struggled to get out of Damon's arms. "Come on! I love this song."

Damon giggled. "You're tickling me!" Loras stopped pushing against Damon and started chewing his thumbnail again. Damon set him down in a chair. "I'm gonna get you this pillow you'll like to feel but I'll be right back. Don't be nervous. Stay." Damon surged up high into the air and made his way out of sight somehow.

Loras looked around and saw the scrappy guy, a stocky new guy and the girls dancing. He felt the music pulsing in his veins and stood to dance with them. They laughed and opened their circle for him. He felt like he was becoming part of something bigger, something intangible and pure. The music seemed like a cosmos expressing itself in someway, and he was sharing it with these strangers. Dancing together was a way to share the same feelings and experience with other souls and to see and feel their understanding - _is that that fucking psycho?!_

He held a long rolled blanket in his arms. He was talking with his slimey smile to the girl with long, espresso colored hair, and something was very wrong. The world was slow to let him pass through space. It wanted him to dance to it's music, but his heart was drawn to the couch. The psycho turned to look at him and a fire lit behind his ice gray ices. His delighted smile revealed sharp white fangs.

Then Loras realized what he'd been drawn to; a thin white arm with a makeshift splint at the wrist and gauze on the forearm. Theon's poor white face had a fading black eye and swollen jaw. There was a bandage on his forehead and butterfly closures across a wound on his chest. He was wrapped in a gray blanket Ramsay had both arms around. When Ramsay smiled at Loras, it was clearly to ask just what the fuck he was going to do about it. Theon's head rolled against Ramsay's shoulder and sank into the crook of his neck.

Loras found himself standing over Ramsay before he even thought about moving. "YOU!" He stuck and accusing finger in Ramsay's amused face. "What the fuck did you do to him?! He didn't look like that just a few hours ago! That's it! I want my keys, I want Theon, we're leaving. How could you do that? How could you do that to sunny Theon?! Jesus! He just wants to make people happy! What the fuck did he do to you?"

"Loras," Theon looked up with dizzy eyes, "don't just-"

"Why don't you rest your mouth, pet? You don't want your jaw to start hurting again, do you? Loras! YOU!" Ramsay pointed back, mocking him. "Tell me; have you ever even been in a real fight?"

Loras scoffed, of course he had. "I took kickboxing for ten years, asshole."

"Well, good for you, princess. I didn't expect that much, honestly. What I mean though, is have you been in a _real_ fight? Have you ever had a black eye? Have you ever gotten stitches? Have you ever been knocked unconscious before tonight? Let me ask this; what's the most you've ever physically hurt another person? Broken any bones? No. Sent anyone to the hospital? No. Made them bleed on purpose? No. Have you ever been shot at? Of course not. Have you ever even fired a gun?"

"What's your point?!" Loras growled through gritted teeth.

"You want to kill Stannis, and you have no idea how or even what that means. We kill and torture for a living and Damon likes you. So my point, my question, is this: would you rather walk out of here with Theon or get your revenge for your lost love? What other options do you have? Do it yourself? How will you get to him? How will you be able to do it? You want to hire a gun? Other than Damon and us, what hitmen do you know of, exactly? How will you find them? Put an ad in the paper?"

Loras' fists fell open.

"Or just leave, right?" Theon said with a sick child's voice, not his own. "Can't he just leave?" Ramsay gave Theon a look that made him hide in Ramsay's chest.

"I..." he knew the answer, he just didn't want to say it. "Revenge is my reason for living."

"Good, I thought so! Well, we can keep the party going because now I don't have to kill you!"

"But, what are you doing to him? Why?"

"He's mine. My father bought him for me from his miserable cunt of sperm donor. He'd be dead if it wasn't for me, so what I do with him is my own fucking business. I'd worry about yourself anyway, you know? Get that shit sorted before you go trying to save other people."

"What are you talking about?!" Ramsay looked up over Lora's shoulder and tilted his head in that direction. He pulled at his shirt collar and swallowed comically. "What?"

Ramsay's wide grin was so joyfully malicious it must have been venom shining on his teeth. He pointed behind Loras. Loras turned and his eyes ran up Damon's chest to find his face above looking as dark and cold as the Northern winter.


	88. Shining Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek remembered Loras from another life which seemed more unreal everyday.

"Ready?" Loras grinned over his shoulder. "Watch me, bitch!" Three quick steps and he leaped off the roof through the bright blue sky. He arms gracefully swung to make a perfect point over his head and he pierced the blue water, sinking in smoothly with hardly a splash. Theon watched him glide through the water, curve up and emerge by his drink. His hair swooped behind him, so effortlessly elegant. Theon swayed and took another drag. The tile was hot and scratchy under his barefeet, but the view was beautiful and the breeze was cool. "Hey! Did you like it?!" Loras threw out his arms, laughing, then took another drink.

"Yeah!" Theon stood and stumbled a little.

"Wait, I'll come up there!" Loras waved and pulled himself out of the pool.

"No, no, no, hey! No, Loras, stay there." Theon finished his cigarette and flicked it over the side of the house. He chugged the rest of his beer and threw the bottle into the poolside garden.

"Hey! My flowers!" Margaery called from where she was lounging in the sun.

"Sorry. Sorry! Alright, I can do it, hold on."

"Theon, no!" Margaery slammed her book down onto her lap. "Sit there and let Loras get you. You'll worry me, lovely! Just sit down."

"It's alright! I can do it."

Loras ran up the deck to the patio under Theon. "Hey, come on, I know you can do it but you're drunk. I dive all-" Theon laughed and tossed Loras his sunglasses. "Theon, don't! What if you miss?!"

"It was such a good month, it would be perfect."

"What's he saying?" Margaery asked under her breath. Loras turned to her to make a wild, confused gesture and shadow flew across him. Water exploded next to him, splashing Margaery. She sighed and left with her book.

Theon popped up behind Loras, gasping. He grabbed onto the deck and coughed. Loras sat beside him, putting his legs in the warm water. Theon looked around, squinting. "Did she like it?"

"No, ha ha. She worries about you. Hey, next year, I was thinking we should go on a road trip. New York, maybe? Wouldn't that be awesome?! What do you think?"

"That would be amazing." _They'd never let me._ "Gimme my sunglasses." Loras unfolded them and slid them onto Theon's face. "Kay. Gimme a kiss."

"Shut up, drunk face, ask me when you're sober." Loras pushed him by his forehead back into the pool where he drifted, hoping to drown happy before Mr. Stark came to take him.

***

 

 "Hi, Damon." Loras smiled. Damon wrapped a large hand around his neck and pulled him back to the chair he'd been left in. Loras was shoved in it and Damon followed.

Leaning on the arms of the chair Damon spoke with a cold, severe tone Loras shrank from. "I told you to stay. That's the second time you disobeyed me. Next time, you will be punished. Do you understand me?"

"No! I-I don't understand any of this. What-"

"Damon, relax. He's high, it's all new, it's a party. Let's have some fun." Damon peered incredulously over his shoulder. Ramsay mouthed ' _later'._ "Poor little Rick is tired and traumatized."

"Who the hell is Rick?" Loras exclaimed grabbing his hair.

"That's what Ramsay calls Theon now."

Reek turned around in Ramsay's arms. "What?" A silly grin spread slowly over him like a rising sun and it lit the dark clouds on Ramsay's face. 

Ramsay shrugged and leaned in giggling. "Right?"

"OH MY GOD!" Loras almost leapt up but stopped when Damon glanced down at him. "You're doing some mind shit to him! Brainwashing! You're a brainwasher! That's not Theon!"

"No, not really."

"You broke him!"

" _I saved him_ , and I'm keeping him safe," Ramsay mused, staring lovingly at his prize. His eyes flashed upon Loras and he smiled wickedly. "Let's play a game. You think you can tell me who Theon is? You think you know? How about we each ask him five questions, we'll all write down our answers, you read yours, I'll read mine, and he'll tell us the truth. If you win, I'll give you your keys, phone, and wallet. You can work out whatever business plan with Damon you want, or not. If I win, you call your grandmother tomorrow and tell her you're moving in with your new boyfriend!"Damon smiled down at him.

"I don't-"

"Oh, it wasn't really a question. You're playing. Damon, can you get paper and markers or some shit?"

When they were ready, Reek sat miserably at one end of the couch and Ramsay at the other. Loras asked the first question, then Ramsay, back and forth until they had ten. "Right!" Everyone was already laughing but Loras and Reek. "Go on, princess, first question."

"Favorite movie; Top Gun."

"TOP GUN! Are you fucking kidding me! Pfft, I almost want to let you quit now. Princess Bride. He wanted to be a pirate and come back to save Sansa so everyone would _lovvve him_." Reek showed his paper with 'Princess Bride' written on it.

"Siblings; Robb, Jon, Arya, Sansa, Ricky and Brant."

"Oh, this cruel, even for me. Yara, Rodrick, and Maron." Reek's paper listed the same three foreign names. "The Starks aren't his real family. Don't you even know why he visited you every winter?"

"And Summer! Because we were bestfriends!" Reek shifted and pulled his knees closer to his chest. 

" _Because he liked me!_ " Ramsay mocked him. " _But of course!_ Can you believe this asshole? Ha ha! Ok, ok, favorite kind of food." 

"French," Loras muttered, not so sure now.

Ramsay threw up his hands and cackled. "It's like you're  _trying_ to lose! Seafood." Again, Reek's paper mirrored Ramsay's answer. "Come on, come on, where was he born?"

"Winterfell?"

"Havanna."

"What?!" 

"I wasn't supposed to tell people..." Reek winced apologetically. 

"No, no, he knows all about you, you'll see. Alright, favorite band."

"Daft-"

"No!" Ramsay gasped, holding his side.

"- Punk."

"NO! That is too good! That is fucking stellar! _The Smiths!_  " All his friends started laughing. They hung on his every word, Loras wasn't sure he wasn't casting a spell over everyone. "How wrong could you be! Alright, alright, it might be Depeche Mode but I think it's The Smiths."

"It's Depeche Mode," Reek muttered.

"Aw, damn. The Smiths would have been funnier, right?! Daft Punk, The Smiths... eh, I still think it's pretty funny. Are they a close second though, am I right?" Reek couldn't help smiling a little. He nodded. "Yeah, bitch. I told you, I remember! That was a shit question anyway. Ok, biggest fear?"

"Spiders?"

"Dying alone and unloved. No, I'm kidding but, not really. Dogs, drowning and me. Right?" Ramsay prodded Reek with his foot. "Right? Right? Am I right? Right?" 

"I put dogs."

"Because it's complicated with me and drowning? Huh? Is that why?" Ramsay kicked him lightly in his ribs.

"Yeah," Reek laughed against his will. He was flushed with red splotches up to his ears. He stared at his feet and hoped he'd never have to make eye contact with another living being again.

"His dream job is to be a translator in the Navy, not -what did you put? Boxer? No, I know, philanthropist heir to billions! It's over, I got six. I mean, did you figure it out? Is Top Gun your favorite movie? Is Daft Punk your favorite band? Or was? That's what he does to everyone, don't feel too bad."

"I don't understand..." Loras felt something like vertigo. 

"Kay, good game. We'll call grandma then tomorrow then! Goodnight, princess!" Ramsay waved with dancing fingers. He pulled Reek back to his chest and pulled the blanket back over him. Before Loras could say anything, he was lifted and carried off down the hall. 

 


	89. Everything's Alright Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ramsay, what's going to happen to me when you're bored of me?"

"What?" he was so full of surprises, trembling in Ramsay's lap, pushing into his chest. He was feverish with need. The way he looked up at Ramsay made him feel like a god. Ramsay's soft smile was benevolent. "What do _you think_ would happen if I got bored of you?"

"I think you'd just keep me around, ignore me, kick me or kiss me sometimes when I got in your way. It would be so cold and terrible. I'd be trapped and unwanted, alone until one of us killed me. Or would you just throw me out? Or give me to your friend, like you did with Loras?" The day had been too much for the sensitive little thing. Ramsay could feel his heart pounding. He already looked lost in winter woods. How does he feel so much? He soaked everything in, absorbing colors, sensations, and details Ramsay was happily blind to. His eyes darted and his pupils quaked, he could hear the dogs getting louder.

"Give you to a friend-" Ramsay's phone vibrated in his back pocket. "Hold on. _Shit_." He scanned the room and saw nothing but idiots, only one he could barely trust. "WHERE THE FUCK IS ALYN?!"

Dick looked up from talking to the curvy blond in his arms and grinned smugly. "He left."

Ramsay frowned and snapped at Skinner. "Take him to my room and make sure he doesn't leave it." He hurried downstairs with his phone, leaving Reek alone, still shaking.

Dick stood at once, knocking the beautiful girl off his lap. He hadn't stopped talking loudly since he'd arrived, but now he waltzed over to Reek in silence. Skinner hopped up from the floor and stumbled over, smiling. "Hey, I'll take you."

Reek exhaled, but still tread icy water.  "I, uh, can't... walk very well."

Skinner looked him over and gripped the back of his neck. "Hmm. Well..." Though Skinner was agile, quick, and hard hitting, he was shorter and weighed less than the poor freak. "You can hop on your good foot with your arm around me."

 _But I can't touch the floor._ "Uh," Reek backed up and gripped the couch. He was dizzy soaring between going to Ramsay's room as he wanted and breaking a rule. He needed time to figure it out, but Skinner was waiting and Dick loomed over him. He was broad with oddly squared muscles, a thick neck, and short, gelled hair. The obscene amount of money he spent on his clothing did nothing to make it less tacky, or him more bearable. 

"Want don't you crawl then, bitch?" Dick barked. 

Skinner raised an eyebrow at Dick and rubbed his foot into the carpet. 

"I ... I broke my wrist," he stammered. He lifted his wrist to show the splint.

"Then crawl like a three legged dog, bitch! Go, faggot!" He woofed his words and puffed his chest out swaying. Reek half- expected him to thump his chest and drag his knuckles on the floor.

"I got it," Skinner said, friendly but firm. "Why don't you get more drinks from the bar near the stairs? I'll be right back." Dick wasn't listening. He grabbed Reek and threw him on the floor. The girls cried out. One came up and pushed Dick swearing at him. Reek didn't see who she was, but he heard her stumble back and fall. "God damn it! Why the fuck did those assholes leave me here with _you?_! Just stop!" 

Reek started crawling on knees, hand and elbow to Ramsay's room. He kept telling himself not to attack Dick for shoving a girl. _Just get in our bed. Ramsay will come and fix it._ Footsteps stomped up behind him. A shoe slammed up against his ass and sent his shoulder and face crashing to the floor. 

"That's not just some slut he picked up, Dick! That's Ramsay's favorite fuck! He's... he told us all ... hey!" Dick pulled Reek by his ankle, skidding against the polished wood, towards the end of the hall.  "Stop! Don't mess with him!"

"Ramsay's done with him," Dick bellowed, laughing. "He has to be good for something. I'll show him what a pussy faggot is good for." Reek used his free heel to slam into Dick's ankle. It was enough to make Dick stagger to a stop, and Reek was able to kick the back of his knee hard enough to cause the giant prick to tumble down. Reek scrapped and clawed his way to Skinner who quickly pulled him up and dragged him back. 

"Now you see why we don't call him 'Rich', right?" Skinner laughed. He threw Reek in Ramsay's room and yelled at him to lock the door as he slammed it. Reek lept up to his knees and turned the lock before the handle started shaking. The doors and walls were thick, but as he backed away he could hear the yelling and someone slamming into the wall.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" Loras shook with anger and fear, bouncing on Damon's hard, round shoulder. They were deep in the dark woods. Autumn leaves broke crunching under his march. 

At last, Loras' feet fell toward the ground. Damon held his shoulders so he didn't topple. He turned Loras to face a large metal cylinder which towered above them. Damon leaned down to his ear and asked softly, "Do you know what that is?"

"Are my car keys in there?" Loras looked at Damon. He could just make out his outline, but his eyes stood out clearly and made Loras' stomach drop. He turned back. "A smoke stack?"

"And what does the stack sit on?" Damon pulled out his keys and used two to unlock a short door with a curved top.

"An oven?" Loras guessed with a dry, tight, throat.

"An incinerator. This is where I take the bodies." Damon traced a finger over the door's handle. "They slide in, in bags. I lock the door and hit start. I come back in about three hours and make sure there's only ashes." His hand glided on a cold breeze from the handle to cup Loras' face. "Would you like Stannis to burn here, for the murder of your love?"

"Yes."

"Here? Where strangers burned before? People killed by these hands? Do you understand where you are and who I am now? You are in hell and I'm here for your soul." Damon turned to face Loras. "That redhead witch burned here. I sliced her open, over and over until she didn't have a body anymore. She took _so long_ to die; hours. Her heart wouldn't give out and she wouldn't stop crying, and I couldn't stop hitting her, and I can't stop seeing it _everytime I close my eyes_. Do you know who I am? Do you understand?" Damon leaned in, speaking softly. Loras stepped back, swallowing the cold, dry, air. "I used to hate killing. Now I _need_ it. I sold my soul. Everyone here did. You've been given chances already but this is the very last one. Will you sell your soul to me to get the revenge you can't live without?"

"You're crazy," Loras gasped. He took slow steps backwards.

"So? You give up on killing Stannis? Are you going to do it yourself? Make a decision."

Loras became rigid and slammed his foot into the earth. "Alright, god damn it! Listen to me, I'm make this perfectly clear; I will pay you  _in money- with MONEY_ not, whatever the fuck it is you're asking. Stop fucking around and tell me how much you want!"

Damon laughed mirthlessly. An ember of malice glowed in his eyes, but Loras saw a pyre behind the tiny blood orange glow. "I have money, so much money, and nothing to do with it. No one to keep, no one to care for-" Loras sprinted through the woods before he could finish. 

He ran through the giant pines with no idea where he was going. His only thought was to get away, as far away as he could. He stopped when the ground dropped suddenly in front of him for maybe a hundred feet; a steep and jagged angle falling into blackness. He saw lights from the house and a neighboring light next door. It must be the only neighbor they had. There was only one road and nowhere to hide on it. He couldn't think of anywhere else to go.  

By the time he reached the door, he was in a panic he didn't know he could withstand. He pounded on the door. "Help me! OPEN THE DOOR!" A hand came to cover his face, nose to chin.

Damon's other hand opened the door as asked. "I'll help you." He shoved Loras inside and locked the deadbolt, shoving the key in his pocket. "Do you like it? Ramsay had people clean it and wash the sheets and towels but it still needs a lot of work I think. I just got the key tonight. Come on, I'll show you our room."

"Stay the fuck away from me you fucking ape! You're insane!"

Loras backed into the small kitchen and lunged for a knife hanging on the wall. His dramatic expressions, warm smile, and big mouth were all so familiar in a way that drove Damon crazy. Now he was wildly brandishing a knife spewing his bratty tantrum from his big mouth but, when Damon stepped forward he didn't grin and cackle like a hyena, nor did he attack and somehow force Damon to grovel every fucking time. When Damon stepped forward he jumped back. He looked lost and scared. His eyes were begging though his mouth wouldn't allow the words to come. Not yet.

"FINE! I decided, I want to go home! Ok? Just get back- GET BACK!" Loras swung the knife through the air as a warning. Damon kept coming, as if he didn't notice. "Stop!" Loras started to shrivel and shake. His voice cracked and quivered now. Damon seemed to grow in his dilated eyes. "Leave me alone! I'll never say anything, I'll never come back!" He hacked at Damon, who easily caught his forearm. 

"Drop it." Damon slid his thumb up Loras' wrist, pressing down on the base of his thumb and pushing slowly up until the knife fell. 

"No," Loras watched it fall. He looked up at Damon, unmoved, unchanged staring down with an eerie calm. "Let me go," he whispered. His eyes blurred and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. " _I just want to go home,_ _please_."

"Don't you see? I'm giving you everything you want." Damon gripped his neck with one large hand. Loras held onto his wrist with both hands. A tear hot tear fled his eye. "You _are_ home."


	90. Writhing, Intertwined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hello, Father," Ramsay answered cheerfully as soon as he was far enough from the party.

"I got some news while I've been sorting things out here. Balon Greyjoy is dead."

"Really?!" Ramsay froze, mid step.

"Yes. Theon may have trouble getting a life insurance settlement; shortly after he sold his only living child, he ran his car through a steel barrier to fly off a bridge into the Atlantic. The autopsy didn't indicate he was drunk enough for a DWI, so it looks like suicide. Still, Theon will inherit quite a bit of money and much more when his mother passes."

"Ok, great!"

"What did you tell him?"

Ramsay went to the freezer and poured himself some vodka. "The truth."

"And what will you tell Theon?" Ramsay pulled out a bowl of shrimp and thought a moment. "A nicer version of the truth."

"You know, his mother's long been committed to a psychiatric hospital, his sister likely overdosed years ago and still rotts in a ditch somewhere, and now his father leapt to his death."

"Uh huh," Ramsay said with a mouthful of shrimp.

"Do you understand the implications for your Theon?"

"Well, actually, ... Theon did try to kill himself, sadly. Slit his wrists after breaking one. I stopped the bleeding, and put him to bed. I'll call Qyburn in the morning when I'm over my shock."

"Why?"

"Well, as he's getting used to things... he's been through so much, too much really. He's in withdrawal. He might says things that don't make sense or... try to hurt himself again... run away." Ramsay heard a thud upstairs and frowned. "It's safest for everyone to have a doctor see him now, especially with those awful familial implications."

"And my house?"

"Huh?"

"I expect to find it as I left it, Ramsay."

"Aw, yawh, ahf cawse, fawtha."

Roose sighed. "Do not talk to me with your mouth full. Did you convince Damon to take the apartment?"

"Yes. He's, uh, he might bring a friend. I'll tell you more about it later."

"Hmm. I'll be back in a week. I expect everything and _everyone_ to be intact."

"Yes, Father, I'm taking very good care of him."

"Hmm. Very well. Goodnight."

Ramsay took a double shot of vodka and headed to his wing of the estate. "Goodnight, Father."

He pounded up his stairs and found Dick pinning Skinner to the floor. "Open your mouth, cocksucker!" Dick could never remember his place. He was always getting his greasy hands all over Ramsay's toys.

Ramsay rushed to kick him hard in the ribs. "Get the fuck off of him, you piece of shit. What do you think you're doing?"

"Making sure Rick didn't leave, bro."

Skinner looked scared when he should look humiliated. When he sat up he inched away from Ramsay. He was expecting Ramsay to be angry, and only one person mattered enough to get angry over. Ramsay tried to open his door. "I told him to lock it," Skinner volunteered. Ramsay unlocked it and threw the door open. 

He turned to Dick. " _Where is he?"_

"What?! He's in there! He's just pissing himself in some corner. I was in front of this door the whole time, bro!"

Ramsay sped through the untouched room, checking each corner. into the bathroom. Doors whacked shut and he emerged snarling with clenched fists. " _Where the fuck is he_?!" Skinner backed away from the door and gestured helplessly with empty hands. Ramsay threw open the black out curtains and burst out onto the balcony. The earth, more than two stories below, was undisturbed as his pristine room. Dick called out that he was under the bed. "What?" Ramsay dropped to the floor and lifted the bed sham. The floor was completely bare aside from a bottle that had rolled off the nightstand, and his toy chest.

Ramsay stood. "I know where he is. Go back to the girls. I'll get him. Skinner," Skinner waited and Dick shoved past him. Ramsay put an arm around Skinner's shoulders. "Call Luton, and get Alyn back here." He smiled and Skinner smiled back with a sudden, welcomed, understanding. Ramsay patted his shoulder and ran downstairs. 

"Get off of me," Loras followed the pain to the kitchen counter as Damon twisted his thumb backwards. "I told you, I want to leave. I'm not making any deal with you."

"It's too late. You missed your last chance to give up your revenge."

Loras cried out when Damon pinned his wrists to the counter. It was cold on his back. He teared up with hot, impotent, frustration. He could feel his rage teetering on the edge, threatening to crumble into hopeless despair. "I thought you liked me."

"I _do_ like you. You're something pure and beautiful that fell through the earth. You were pulled into hell by your anger, your revenge. But, you're weak, and you don't even see it. You're clean and naive. You'll be killed or worse before you get near Stannis. Since we killed his Christian witch, he's be even more vigilant. I will help you; I'm true to my word. A life for a life. I'll give you Baratheon's and take the one you wanted to throw away." Damon kept speaking as calmly while Loras thrashed and groaned. "You need to be cared for and protected, and I need some kind of light in my life."

"Stop. If you care about me at all, just talk to me. D-Damon," Damon leaned down and kissed him once, softly on the mouth, " _you're scaring me_."

"It will be a hard adjustment for you. I'll be clear and fair-"

" _Stop_."

"- no games. I won't try to surprise or trick you. You must respect and obey me-"

" _Stop it_."

"-or you will be punished. The first thing you have to understand is that I own you now. I've taken you. You're mine. The faster you accept that the easier it will be for you."

" _Why_? Why are you doing this to me? Why are you saying these horrible things?"

Damon smiled. "It's for your own good."


	91. In You I Feel so Pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay grabbed an extra jacket before he ran out into the crisp, breezy, night.

He went out the back onto the patio and walked around the wing until he was under his balcony. He noticed a black lump on the eight foot high wintergreen barberry bushes that made a thick thorny wall around the house and gates. The spots of wailing red, which bled into the leathery leaves in autumn, were blacked out where the bush creased. He came closer smiling to himself, and found the beanbag chair missing from under his bed. He used the flashlight app on his phone to make it out, and found seams had burst in at least one place. Ramsay smirked and put his phone away.

Winter winds were blowing down from the Arctic. He could feel his favorite season moving in, draining life to clear its path. He could _smell it_. He walked quietly through the woods, taking care with his steps. The dry and brittle severed tree flesh rotting on the ground kept threatening to reveal him. He peered around a fat trunk and listened, keeping his breath shallow. His ears pricked up when he caught rapid, throaty, breathing. Ramsay approached the clearing and grinned. _You're not hiding from me, are you?  
_

Reek sat atop the wooden pyramid-shaped roof covering the platform to the longest slide. Ramsay slowly approached from behind. He had his arms wrapped around his knees, his head dropped where he could hide it. His spine and ribs poked out more than Ramsay thought they did, maybe it was a trick the moonlight was playing. The X Ramsay had carved seemed to shine on his ribs.  _  
_

"When I said you could jump off my balcony," Ramsay said softly, coming round the side as Reek looked up, trying to find him, "it wasn't a standing invitation, to be clear. It was a here-and-now-or-never type of offer." Ramsay smiled and ascended the creaking steps.

"I didn't know what to do." 

"How the fuck did you get up there?"

Reek looked around as if he'd just been dropped. "I don't know..."

Ramsay hung his hoodie over the railing running along the shaky bridge. "This was a good idea. If someone else scares you, like Dick and Skinner did tonight, you should do it again. I don't think anyone else but Father even knows this is here. Did you climb all that way so my girls couldn't reach you? They've been gone for years now."

"I didn't know that. It was just Dick. Skinner fought with him... told him... you know..."

Ramsay's heart quickened. "Reek, turn onto your stomach now. Tried to hold onto the sides and slide down as slowly as you can. Ramsay stood underneath, facing his feet, then knees, then stomach. He wrapped his arms around  Reek's waist and under his ass and lowered him until he could see his face. He pushed Reek's bare back against a support beam. "Hello, puppy."

Reek looked sweet and broken, devastated with exhaustion but, relieved above everything. It made Ramsay so happy; a quiet, deep, kind of soothing happy he didn't couldn't live without. He pressed his forehead to Reek's. "Were you waiting for me?"

Reek nodded. "I'm only yours, right?"

"Only mine, always." Ramsay bit into his shoulder. Reek groaned and held on tighter. His fingers dug into Ramsay's back. "You're too cold, shithead. You didn't take my shoes or anything?"

"They're too big for me, believe it or not."

Ramsay took him to the railing and sat him on it. He helped Reek slip into the hoodie. "Wait," Ramsay grabbed his shoulder and punched him in the stomach, "what the fuck is that supposed to mean- ' _believe it or not_ '?"

"I only meant because I'm taller than you!"

"No, you are not!" 

"Yeah, just by a little bit." Reek bit his lip and smiled sheepishly.

"Oh yeah? Come here!" Ramsay pulled him to standing. "Ha! I'm, like, almost two inches taller!"

"But, ha ha, you're wearing boots and I'm barefoot." Reek flinched and kept his arms up. 

Ramsay's smile faded. "No... well, I'll just have to give you really bad posture." He went to playfully punch Reek's stomach again and Reek whimpered. "I didn't even touch you, you fucking baby."

"I'm sorry. My stomach is killing me. I was so afraid," his voice dropped, "I felt so bad. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't think of any solution that you would like."

"And that makes your stomach hurt?" Ramsay looked him over; he did look miserable.

"Yeah, anxiety and guilt, you know? Don't you- ... it hurts some people's stomachs."

"Hmm. Good to know." Ramsay picked his Reek up and started carrying him uphill, back to the estate. He knew he'd be struggling by the time he reached the garage, but he could hide it. Damn liquor only ever warmed him; it would help to have numb arms and shoulders a few minutes from now. "We'll talk about what happened, but I don't think I'll be angry with you. I have an idea, do you want to go for another drive? A short one?"

"Just you and I?" His eyes got so big Ramsay wanted to fuck and bite him until he tasted blood but, he was fragile now and Ramsay is so patient.

"Of course." The woods parted and the estate loomed upon the hill. "Why did you worry I'd throw you away?"

"Because you won. It's over. I should be worried about Loras, innocent, helpless, kind-hearted, Loras, but I only worried about _you_ all night _._  I sat here crying because you might be mad at me. It's sick it's... over. You won the game. Why would you want to keep playing?"

"I could never be bored with you. You're too ... full of surprises." Ramsay flashed his eyebrows and laughed glancing over at his balcony. He stopped laughing and held Reek's broken wrist, the one he'd always pull his little friend by. "I don't feel real, sometimes... a lot of the time. You're a person I value and I found, when we met, that we're connected. The way you respond - you see me, you feel me, you understand. It makes me _feel_ _real_. You reflect my self  back to me in a better light than I deserve. You make me feel _alive_. Do you understand?"

Reek swallowed. His eyes shined. "I do."

"You think I would let someone else get their filthy hands on you?"

"No, Sir."

"Are you really stupid enough to still think I would ever let you get away from me?"

"No, Master."

"Good boy. Let's take a ride. You tell me what happened in the car where we're alone. I'll play some nice music for you and we'll go to bed and watch a movie you like."

"Thank you." Ramsay smirked. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"I always will, fuckface, figure it out already." Ramsay snapped at his ear and laughed when when he cowered. He shined adoration on his favorite plaything, and felt it reflected back.


	92. In You I Take Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon wrapped an arm under Loras' hips and pulled him into himself.

Loras took advantage of his free hand deftly using blind, creeping, fingers to find the knife and grab it's handle. He brought the blade swiftly to Damon's neck, stopping with precession so he only made a scratch." _Get off of me._ " 

Damon grabbed the counter's ledge and pushed himself up. The knife followed his throat. "Ok, ok." Loras tried to slip away but Damon still had him trapped. "Back up, alright. Just back the fuck up."

"No. You still don't understand the situation."

"I-I'll slit your throat if you make me."

"No, you won't. Are you sure you want to fight? It'd be easier if you didn't." Loras panicked and slammed his knee hard into Damon's balls.

"Umph," Damon sank. " _Really_?" Loras scrambled away and ran for the door. He rattled and twisted the handle, and turned the lock but, it wouldn't open for him. "I thought you'd have a little more honor than that."

"Honor would pluck it's eyes here or spoil into madness," Loras scanned the apartment as Damon emerged from the small kitchen holding his stomach. Large black windows, a bedroom and bathroom door, but no door to the freedom outside. "ALRIGHT, LISTEN TO ME! You're not going to fucking manhandle me and I'm not staying here!"

"No, ha ha, you're going to listen to me for once."

Loras withered, aching. "For once? I  _liked you_! Why are you doing this? Is it the drugs? Or was it just an act before?"

Damon spoke in the same low, gentle voice. "I do like you, it wasn't an act. I don't play games; I'm being honest, clear, and fair."

"FAIR?! How is this fair? I'm a human being! What gives you the right to kidnap me?!"

Damon stopped and grinned. "You're a little old to kidnap, aren't you? What are you, twenty two, right? I saw your car when I pulled you out of it. I know you've been living in it. Where or who am I kidnapping you from?"

"But, it's my life! You can't take it!"

"I didn't take it, Ramsay gave it to me. You were throwing it away anyhow. I think-"

"Don't come any closer!"

"- you need a strong hand to guide you." 

When Loras exhaled a whine escaped him. A smirk pulled at the corner of Damon's mouth and he continued forward. Loras uselessly fought with the door handle then burst from the door, flying past Damon into the bedroom at the end of the hall. He slammed the door and pushed a button beside the knob to lock it. He stepped back until he bumped into a window. It was so hard to think. It wasn't fair, he wasn't sober, Damon was so much bigger than him, they'd never be in the same weight class. A sneaky metal sound clinged and scraped the air. He dropped by the bed, but the frame was too low to the ground. He dashed for the closet and shut the door. 

Damon came in and found the room empty. He walked towards the closet door and stood to one side. Damon pulled the door open and Loras burst out, plunging the little paring knife into the air. Damon caught him from behind before he fell on his tiny sword. "Ha ha, good effort." Damon's bicep hit Loras' neck and his forearm squeezed up under his jaw. Damon grabbed the elbow trapping Loras with his free hand and pulled it towards his chest. " _Drop it_."

Loras tried to swing the knife around his torso to stab at Damon, but got it just past his own left arm. He straightened his right out, gripping the knife as hard as he could, and tried stabbing Damon's face or neck, but he couldn't push past Damon's arm enough to even reach his own shoulder. He started sinking, he's muscles all failed him. 

He came to with Damon on all fours over him. "Do you want this to help you relax? I always wear my favorite leather belt, do you want to see why? Tell me which is better."

By the time Ramsay got to his driveway, Reek was passed out in his arms. Ramsay looked at him awhile then took him inside. 

He strolled into party after putting Reek to bed, and was happy to see Alyn and Luton there. "ALYN!"

Alyn looked over at him and slowly got off the floor where he was waiting for his turn to play a game. "What?"

Ramsay motioned for him to come into the hall. Alyn came out with his arms crossed. Ramsay slapped him hard across the face. Alyn stumbled but caught himself. "What the fuck, Ramsay!"

"I didn't tell you to leave. You didn't even ask me." Alyn clenched his fists. "You wanna make it up to me? Take Dick to the basement and have fun."

Alyn's bitter expressions gave way to childlike elation. "What are the limits?"

"Ha, ha, I don't give a shit. Just fuck him up." Ramsay patted his shoulder and headed back to his room. "Have some fun!"


	93. Swallowed Me Whole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Baby, wake up. Hey, hey, it was just a bad dream."

"Ramsay?"

"Yeah. You were calling me. I'm right here." Reek sighed and curled up. He felt an arm pull him in and a leg over his hip. The Simpsons was playing on Ramsay's tv.

Reek rubbed his jaw and stretched. He jumped when Ramsay slid a finger over the X on his ribs. His foot stopped abruptly when the chain was pulled taut. "I thought I went back to sleep..."

"You did, stupid. It's almost noon. Wish I could be you, sleeping all the time."

He smiled and turned to see Ramsay, fully dressed, sitting beside him. He shook his chained leg. "Did I sleepwalk?"

"Nightmares."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I was _so fucking bored_. I waited as long as I could. There's a sweet girl named Jane who's been awake for an hour, Alyn only got up a few minutes ago, I woke Damon up but he hasn't come to eat yet, and everyone else is laying around. Come on, come on, get up! The staff made us an English breakfast, it's perfect for when you're hungover or strung out."

"Oh shit, Roose is English. Of course, oh god, of course. I'm so fucking stupid."

"No shit. Who cares?" Ramsay looked through the set of keys Reek had just held ... how long ago was it? Almost noon; it's almost noon now. That's something. Ramsay noticed him looking and pinched a tiny key. He dangled it in front of Reek like it was a treat. "It's the smallest one, idiot. Ha ha!"

Reek groaned. "You said it wasn't on there!"

"Oh, did I lie? No way!" He unlocked the ankle cuff. "You can walk today." Reek's stomach dropped. He sat up and tried to climb off the bed. "Hey!" Ramsay slammed him back down. 

" _What?!_ What did I do?!"

"Depeche Mode, that's because of me, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I dunno, I guess so."

"Well, did you like them before me?"

"No! Ha ha, what fucking eight year old listens to-"

"My mom would sing and dance to her favorite music in the car when she drove me to school and stuff. She'd turn around and smile at me when I started singing with her. It makes me happy. I'm glad it makes you happy too."

Reek smiled up at him. "Yeah? Yeah, I guess it was you."  _  
_

_'Sunny Theon' he only shines on me, asshole_. "Good. I win again."

"I still hate that Safety Dance song."

"NO YOU DON'T!" Ramsay smacked and spanked Reek as he laughed and tried to crawl away. "Say you're sorry, you fucking brat! You loooovvvee it! You want a Men Without Hats tattoo on your ass!"

"NO! Ow! Mercy!" Reek rolled onto his back and threw up his hands to surrender.

Ramsay's phone buzzed. "What? Good. Be there in, like, fifteen minutes. Food's ready. We have to be quick."

"Well..."

"Ha ha, I'm not taking it off." 

Ramsay kept his arm around Reek when they came out onto the patio. Loras was sitting on the concrete, next to Damon's chair. "We ran out of chairs. There's only one left."

"And you saved it just for me? Thanks, cuntface." Ramsay grabbed Reek by the back of his neck and moved him. "Stay." Reek curled up in the chair. He pulled his hoodie closer around himself, and looked at the scars on the sole of his foot. They were healing well. It didn't really hurt anymore. Ramsay came back with a full plate. He snapped his fingers and Reek stood, moving out of his way. Ramsay sat and looked up at him. Reek looked at the ground, unsure, but Ramsay pulled him down roughly into his lap. Ramsay noticed Reek staring at his feet as if he was hypnotized. He glanced over and saw Loras boring holes into his back. 

"What's this?" He tilted Reek's head, then pulled his ear closer. "Did you pierce your ear? Ha ha! When did you do that?!"

"Um, I was thirteen, I think. It was a weird year for me."

"Was it a loop? A silver loop? Silver or gold? Silver?"

"Yeah, a silver _hoop_." He was trying not to smile.

"Ha! You fucking idiot! Did you do yourself? Skinner can redo it, and not with a fucking safety pin, dumb shit.

Reek leaned in and whispered in Ramsay's ear. "Where's, um, that uh-"

"Dick?" Ramsay said loudly, looking right at Loras. "He's here, but he won't be bothering you or joining us again." The boys laughed.

Reek pressed in a little closer and whispered. "You didn't hurt him too much, did you? I-"

"Oh my fucking god! You are so god damned ridiculous. Of course I did! He tried to get his scumbag hands on you, baby." He looked away from Loras, flashing a meaningful grin. "' _Oh, Ramsay, you didn't hurt the person who tried to murder me, did you? Oh, you didn't yell at the person who wanted to rape me did you? What about their feelings?!_ ' What would you do in the zombie apocalypse? You wouldn't last one fucking day without me."

"Not this shit," Alyn groaned.

"AFTER THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, _ALYN_ , he wouldn't last a day! Two weeks after the outbreak a band of marauders come to the fence. There's three men. One has a hunting rifle, one has a large backpack, one has a messenger bag. There's also a woman. They say they're starving and dying from, you know, general exposure. _'Oh, Ramsay, let them in! They're dying!'_ They have a gun and it's pointed at your face. _'But they're hungry!'_ No. Go garden with Loras."

"Garden with Loras? What?"

"Yeah, you're too skinny to work the fields."

"Fields?!"

"Yeah, we'll have to clear some of the woods for crops if we want to make it through winter."

"We'll have to fashion weapons to prepare for when the bullets run out," Damon mused. "This is a good location. We're far from society and at the top of a mountain. There are a decent amount of bears and wolves around."

"How did these marauders find us? What do they have in their bags?" Skinner demanded with a mouthful of eggs.

"Good question. Damon and Skinner would be good to have around, _ALYN_."

"Maybe they were just escaping, trying to find higher ground," Reek suggested.

"Oh, shit," Ramsay lamented.

"What?!"

"The woman has a baby."

"Oh my god!"

"Oh no," Jane murmured. Loras listened in disbelief. This psycho has cast some kind of spell over everyone. 

"You have to let the mom and baby in," Reek pleaded.

"Can't. They're holding her hostage. The men won't let her in if they can't come."

"Can't we let them all in?"

"One man is sick, the other's wounded, that's a lot mouths to feed for no labor in return."

"The men _are_ threatening a mother and baby, maybe you should kill them," Jane said gravely.

"Jane has a point." Ramsay smiled. Reek nodded. "Oh no!"

"What?!" 

"I shot the baby. I was trying to kill the wounded man and the baby suddenly stopped crying."

"Oh god!" Jane cried. Reek covered his face and Skinner shrugged.

"That's a shame, but it's probably spared a long painful death of starving," Damon consoled them. 

"Oh holy mothershit!"

"WHAT?!" Alyn threw his hands up. _More fucking games!_

"I didn't shoot that baby! There's no blood!"

"Better aim for it now," Damon said gravely. "You should stay back behind me." He put a hand on Loras' head. 

"What?! Hide from a _baby_?!" Loras was startled to hear himself sound just as crazy as they were.

"He means you don't want to see this," Ramsay explained. 

"See what?!" Reek cried, gripping his head.

"That dead baby just grabbed it's mother..." Ramsay pronounced stoically, "That's not your baby anymore, lady."

"Ok, stop! I don't like this game!" Reek covered his ears. 

"Put it down, lady! Throw it if you want to live!" Ramsay leaned in close to Reek and whispered in a panicked voice, "She threw it over the gate." Skinner laughed. Damon looked around. Alyn groaned impatiently and Jane waited, breathless. " _Where is it_?"

"Ramsay, stop!"

"What's that in the bushes?!"

"YOU are ridiculous! Ok, I need you! Save me from the zombie babies, with your impeccable taste in music, fearless leader!"

"Well? Was that so hard?"

"I'm going to the basement, if you want to real fun again." Alyn stood, knocking his chair over, and left. Ramsay watched him leave and kept staring at the door he'd gone through after it closed.

"Well that was rude." He turned to Reek then Damon. "Let's go shopping!"

 

 

 

 


	94. When You Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon patted Loras' head and spoke with his unchanging soft, low voice.

"Hey, you'd like that, wouldn't you? You like nice things and you haven't had any for awhile. Why don't you come? It will make you feel better." 

Loras looked up at him, bewildered. "Oh. Yeah, ok," he murmured. Loras kept staring until Damon smiled in his soft, quiet way. Loras didn't know how to play this game. He never had to reconcile kindness and violence; he was incapable of it. Every stripe on his back burned to remind him. He could still taste the leather and feel his teeth biting into it with every thrust. Still, he was smart enough to make things easier where he could. He knew, by instinct alone, to plan in silence with a feigned smile on his face. 

"So, uh," Ramsay said loudly, with food in his mouth, "why are you living out of your car? You go a little crazy after your boy died?"

"He's suffering and he's _loyal_ ," Damon said coldly. He turned to Jane, sitting beside him. "Could you please take Alyn's seat?"

"Oh, yeah. Of course." She moved over and Damon gently pulled Loras up to standing. As Loras sat she started walking towards the sliding glass door. "I was actually going to leave. Is, um, Dick not coming back, I guess? It's just, my friends kind of left me thinking we were 'hitting it off' and I might need an address so I can call a cab if he left."

"Don't be silly. We'll give you a ride. Actually, you should come shopping with us. I'll get you some things. We're celebrating." Ramsay's bright grin permeated the group with all his poison charm. Reek was staring at his feet again. Ramsay brought toast to his mouth. Reek looked from it, into Ramsay's eyes, asking without words. Denied in the very same silence. He cleared his dry throat and tried to eat it from Ramsay's hand without moving his own. He could feel heat running up his back, and neck, warming his cheeks.

"Theon," the name stabbed him where his back burned most and he shriveled, "what are you doing?" Reek hiccupped silently and shuttered. " _Theon_ , what are you _doing here_?"

" _Um_ ," Ramsay shielded his mouth with one hand and whispered loudly, " _he's, like, um, not supposed to talk to you so, if you, like, keep talking to him it will be, like, so super awkward._ Damon, could you show Jane where she can shower, if she'd like to?" He fed Reek some sausage, which he had trouble swallowing.

A new, handsome, boy came out onto the porch, yawning. He had mocha skin and thick blueish black hair. "I was wondering if you'd ever join us!" Ramsay called to him. Jane followed Damon inside.

"Yeah, I better be heading home though. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed and shit in my own toilet." He tossed Ramsay a phone which looked split in half. He only saw it for a moment but, Theon remembered.

Ramsay caught it with one hand and looked it over. "Battery?"

"I threw away at last hotel I called from. I did everything exactly as you said to."

"Good," Ramsay said flatly. He tapped his fingers on the table. "You really have to go _right now_? I haven't seen you in forever."

"I was running all over the South for you." Luton's smile was as charming as Ramsay's, but his eyes were made of deep, serene dark green waters. Ramsay's were a grey, swarming maelstrom. Ramsay kept tapping his fingers on the table, faster and faster, when Reek burst off his lap and stumbled into the lawn, retching. 

Ramsay glanced over and smirked. "Let me help him, then I'll get you your money and take you to your car." He stood and headed for Reek, vomiting in the cool breeze and warm sunlight. Luton gave his thanks but Ramsay had stopped paying attention. "What are you doing, puppy?"

"I'm sorry." He looked up miserably from his good hand and knees.

Ramsay pet his cold, sweaty hair. "I want you to drink some orange juice and try to eat some eggs. You can talk to Loras."

"Do I have to?" he asked, still trembling. 

"No," Ramsay grinned. "Not today." He kissed Reek's forehead and helped him stand. "I want you to stay in that chair until I come back. Even if you have to throw up, just do it on the patio. Do you understand me?"

Reek never looked away from his eyes. " _Yes, Master_."

"Great!" Ramsay slapped his shoulder and helped him to the chair. Ramsay pushed it closer to the table. "Eat something. Drink water too. I'll be right back." Loras stopped picking at his food and looked up. "What's wrong, princess? Miss me already?" Ramsay winked and left with Luton, laughing.

Reek curled up tighter in the chair and stared at the ground but Loras spoke immediately anyhow. "Theon, we can leave together," Loras announced. Reek jumped, slamming into the back of the chair. He grabbed the metal arms to keep himself from falling and the pain from his broken wrist was blinding. He moaned and looked, terrified, at Skinner. "He's passed out." Loras lifted his aviator sunglasses to reveal closed eyes above dark circles. "His jaw's been hanging open for awhile now."

" _You can't say that!_ " Reek whispered through his dry mouth and clenched throat. "Don't tell me anything! I'll be fine, really. Just get out. Don't make Ramsay mad. Never ever threaten to take me. He's paranoid. What I'm doing here is; there was people trying to kill me. I don't even know how to explain everything. Robb went crazy, my father betrayed me, there was a hit on me and they thought you were working for the Starks. If you act like you have some agenda with me he's going to think it's kidnap or murder. I don't know why you should believe me but-"

"I believe you. At least, some of what you're saying. I was at my grandmother's when Cat came all the way from the Vale. I trying to find out about Ren-Renly and I overheard Cat asking for that 'fucking traitor's head' I thought, heh, but it was you. My grandmother found it distasteful and wanted to consult with Tywin. Cat was insane with rage. I knew Ned was murdered then. I followed her and hid and shadowed corners. I heard her screaming 'FUCK YOU, BOLTON' after she got a phone call. She stormed into the guest room and slammed things around. I got in my car and waited to follow her. When Damon pulled up he was there forever. He suddenly left in the dark and, I swear I had seen her get in with him. I guess I was wrong." Loras leaned back in his chair and sighed. "So that's how I got here. I know I have to leave now. Why won't you come with me?"

"I can't. I-" It seemed so clear in mind, but he struggled to find words which could shape his reasons. The anchors tethering him here were too ubiquitous to number. He could never explain Ramsay to another person. His disease, his cure. They snapped together like puzzle pieces with an embrace, stab, penetrating wounds. It would never be undone. How could he explain it? "It's not what you think. I'm fine, really. Just, for the love of god,  _do not make Ramsay mad_. If you have to, begging works with him. You have to," Reek scratched at his sore stitches, "you know, lower yourself and he'll calm down. Sometimes you can reason with Damon, you have to appeal to his logic and sense of morality. He seems to think you're ... angelic; don't jeapordize that except to escape. If you have a way to leave, do it. Do it now and leave the North altogether." Reek turned to Loras with the wide eyes of trapped prey. 

"Why won't you leave with me?" Loras insisted. Reek groaned and turned away, hugging himself. "I see what he is and what he's doing to you. He's abusing you. Do you understand that?"

Reek held up the back of his hand. "I-I know what's... _you wouldn't understand_! No one could. It's... just save yourself, please."

"You think he's different?" Reek shook his head, staring at the trees. "I just have to tell you while I have this chance, that an abusive person isn't a mustachioed villain who ties you to the railroad tracks. He doesn't have to get drunk and burn you with cigarettes 24/7 he can genuinely and deeply love you and still be killing you slowly." Reek started grinding his injured foot into the chair's metal arm. He bit his lip and keep shaking his head.

"Theon."

"No."

"Theon, just look at me."

Ramsay came humming through the kitchen. He drummed on the counter as he passed it. He stopped abruptly at the sliding glass door seeing his pet withering under Loras' babble. He sent the door flying down it's track in one smooth motion. Reek jumped, though he tried so hard to hide it. Naughty.  Loras looked unimpressed with Ramsay's reappearance, but sank back in his chair, as if acquiescing. Ramsay saw by Loras' indifferent demeanor, he'd been unable to make Reek conspire with him. Reek seemed more depressed than nervous, and when he looked up at Ramsay he tried to fake a weak smile. That would need some prying into later. Ramsay swiped an apple from the table and took a big crunchy bite. Juice trickled from the curled corner of his mouth.

He looked to Skinner to read his reaction and found him napping behind his reflective glasses. "Skinner. Skinner! SKINNER!" Ramsay leaned against the back of Reek's chair and took another bite. "Kenny. _Kenneth_! 40886!" Skinner jumped up, swaying, and put his hands behind his head. "I'mcleanizclean didna do nothan."

"Are you fucking drunk?"

"What?" Skinner lifted his sunglasses and lowered them with a sigh. "No, no, I'm not drunk, man. Shit! I have to go. _I told you_ I should have left an hour ago!" Skinner rubbed his face and grabbed his phone off the table.

"Where're you going?" Ramsay put a hand on his chest to stop him. 

"I have to go work! Get off of me." Skinner tried to pass but Ramsay blocked him and came closer. Skinner backed up. 

"Work? _Work?_ Work! Where the fuck do you work? You work for ME you piece of shit!"

Reek scrambled out of his chair and slid the patio door open. "DAMON!" He walked over to Ramsay slowly, his hands were poised to fly up and protect his face. "Ramsay, I didn't tell you," he said softly, "Skinner fought Dick for you, really. He told him. He told Dick I was yours... to respect you."

Ramsay shot Reek a look that froze him. He stopped and went back to his chair. But Ramsay was calmer. "Where are you working?"

"I have an apprenticeship. I can't be late, ok?"

" _Where_?"

"Shit, Ramsay. Come on, man, just fuck off already." Before Reek finished blinking, they were both out of sight. He stood up and saw Ramsay on top of Skinner in the grass. He punched Skinner in face and started choking him.

Reek got up and ran to the door just as Alyn was coming through. Alyn grabbed his shoulders so they didn't crash. "Go sit down, he's coming." He released Reek and walked over to Ramsay and Skinner. He smiled at Skinner's bug eyes and purple face. "Gotta learn to keep your mouth shut, bitch." Ramsay didn't hear him or anything, he was gone. So Alyn kicked him hard in the stomach. Ramsay looked up, foaming and snarling. "Come on, you fucking psycho." Damon stepped out and Skinner started coughing and wheezing. Ramsay turned to Alyn. "Dick was _boring_. I'm fucking BORED. I'm gonna leave unless," he started laughing and ran with Ramsay just seconds behind him. 

Skinner was trying to talk as Damon slowly sat him up, then restrained him from bursting forth.

Loras looked at Reek, nodding and trembling. "Fine? Yeah? Yeah, you're fine here. Forget I said anything, he's totally cool."

 


	95. Makes You Wonder How the Other Half Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon wrapped an arm around Skinner's chest and pulled him up slowly.

"Don't! Don't pick me up, Damon. I'm done!" Skinner rasped. He was shaking. His tear-filled bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on anything. "He almost killed me! He wanted to _kill me!_ _"_  Skinner jumped up but Damon caught him in a bear hug and tried to take him inside. "FUCK THIS!"

"Shut your fucking mouth," Damon growled in his ear.

"NO! Fuck him! I'm out! I'M DONE! I'm never coming back-" Damon clasped a hand over Skinner's mouth, spacing his fingers to make room for Skinner's nose. 

"WHAT?!"

Loras grasped the arms of his chair, Reek jumped, Damon dropped skinner, and everyone on the porch found the voice from the lawn. Ramsay lept up and stomped over. Dried blood ran from his nose to his chin. Pink droplets freckled the right side of his shirt and trails of white scratches were turning red on his forearm. Alyn rolled groaning in the cold grass where Ramsay had left him.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?!" Ramsay roared. Damon looked expectantly at Reek and pulled skinner to the sliding glass door. "STOP! Take your fucking paw off his face! I asked him a fucking question!"

Damon took his hands off Skinner but stepped up next to him. "He said you tried to kill him."

"That's not what I mean! I heard you! Say it again!" He flipped a butterfly knife, twirling with a flash, out of his pocket. "Say it to my face." Skinner backed behind Damon. Ramsay laughed. "Don't hide. Come here and _tell me what you said._ "

"Ramsay." Hearing his name and feeling the pull on his shoulder, Ramsay turned swinging his blade. 

"What? What?!" He grabbed one side of the hoodie he'd given Reek to expose his bare chest and pull him closer. He dug the the point of his blade just a centimeter into right pec. Reek winced and sucked air in through his clamped teeth. Ramsay slowly dragged the blade down with a biting smile. "What do you need to say to me right _this fucking second_? You want to ask me something? What's more important than what I'm doing? You want to _protect someone from me_?"

Reek smiled, still cringing. "I just wondered if I could go shopping with you?"

Ramsay furrowed his brow then grinned. "Oh yeah! I almost forgot! I want to go to the Galleria downtown! Have you ever been there?"

"No, I used to go to the outlet mall off the toll road."

"Ha! Loser!" Ramsay flipped the knife closed and slid it back into his pocket then grabbed the other side of Reek's hoodie to yank him forward. He licked the hole he'd made and kissed Reek with a mix of their blood. Loras stared at them, too stunned to find his anger. Ramsay smiled. "Baby, tell me how much you love me, then we can all go have a good time." 

Reek kept his eyes locked on Ramsay's, trying to forget the people watching and listening, the things that Loras said. "I love you, Ramsay, more than anyone. You're all that matters to me."

"Good boy. Am I the only family you need?"

"Yes. Only you."

"Great, because Balon's dead." Ramsay smiled somewhat apologetically and raised his eyebrows. 

Reek stared blankly. He blinked three times and shook his head. "Wait, what?"

"He died. I didn't know how to tell you. BUT, I'm taking you shopping and you can talk to your friend if you need to, like, cry and things. We'll, you know, get you some hot new clothes so..." he threw his hands up and smiled. Reek slowly smiled back. "So, that was good?! You're ok?"

"You have a little uh," Reek made a small circle in the air around his mouth. 

"What?" Ramsay wiped the side of his mouth.

"No, it's uh, a little blood..." 

"Did that get it?" Reek pursed his lips and shook his head. His eyes were heavy and dull but his cheeks rose as he tried not to smile. "Fuck it. I need to shower again anyway. Wait, where's Alyn?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he wheezed from the grass raising a hand. 

"EVERYBODY GET READY!" Ramsay grabbed Reek by the wrist and ran inside. Reek cried out and Ramsay went faster, laughing. 

Damon shut the door and turned to Skinner. "Do you want to die?"

"No."

"Do you want to go to prison? You're too old for juvy, do you understand that? You think you can afford a lawyer?"

"No."

"Do you really think this is worse than prison?"

"No."

"Then keep your fucking mouth shut."

Skinner lowered his gaze and pulled out a cigarette. "I know, man. I'm sorry." He fumbled around in his pockets.

Damon lit his cigarette for him. "Hey, you tattoo anyone yet or what?"

Skinner shook his head. "I have to give my boss at least five more designs she likes before I can tattoo a friend for free."

"Hey, I need a tattoo on this arm to balance out the one I have; I should be your first client." Skinner smiled a little. Damon pulled out his wallet and gave Skinner two hundreds. "Here, get a cab. Get to work on those drawings, bitch."

"Thanks, bro," Skinner mumbled quickly and cleared his throat. Damon patted his back. Before he started walking around Ramsay's wing towards the gate, he stopped and caught Damon's eye. He nodded then dropped his head and left.

Damon sank in a chair next to Loras and sighed, letting his head fall back. 

"You're like a babysitter to serial killers," Loras rasped, terrified.

Damon laughed, hard and rolling. "Yeah, that's exactly what I am." He rubbed the top of his head and stretched. "Well, let's get ready."

Ramsay was bouncing around unable to restrain himself. "We have to go the top floor! First we have to get you some shoes! No! First socks then shoes! Your foot's all still... ha ha!" Reek pulled his foot out of Ramsay's flip flop and looked it over. If was kind of purplish and swollen; that probably wasn't good. "God, you look like such a fucking wreck. Let's start at Nordstom then you can change to go to the nice stores, ha ha!"

Alyn and Jane followed but Damon pulled Loras back. "We're going to the first floor but we'll meet up you guys."

"Gross. Whatever. Gucci's top floor, princess!" Ramsay keep Reek close, holding his uninjured wrist now.

Loras turned to Damon. "What's on the first floor?"

Damon smiled. "Not Ramsay. Let's start at Neiman Marcus. If there's a designer you really like we can go to their shop... if they have one here. You wanna get a coffee on the way?"

"What designers do you like?" Loras asked, warming a little.

"Oh god, um," Damon shrugged. " I usually end up at Burberry. Have you heard of Lucky brand? I dunno, those are my favorite jeans but Ramsay really likes to drop half a grand on every piece we get when we come here. I just like well-tailored cotton in cool, dark colors. I like pieces with good structure that breathe well, you know?"

"Well, shit!" Loras grinned. "I did _not_ expect you to care about clothes!"

"I... I did not grow up like this. Look, I'm from a fucking trailer park but I like clean, nice, things kept well. You should help me out; I'm really just faking it." 

His smile was so earnest that Loras took the hand he extended. "Ok." He followed soft-spoken Damon whose voice still vibrated the bones in his chest. "How about a cotton belt?" He tried to spit it with venom but missed his mark. Damon laughed and threw his arm around Loras' shoulders.


	96. Kind of Funny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Damon," Loras held up two shirts, "black or blue?"

Damon looked up from his phone and leaned against the wall. "Blue."

"Really? Black's so slimming..."

"You're fucking skinny and it brings out your eyes."

"Oh. Thanks."

"What do you think about these boots?"

Damon stretched in leather chair which was uncomfortably small for him. "Yeah, that's cool but do you wear bootcut pants? A straight leg cut, like the jeans you're wearing, shows off how long your legs are. You don't really need to look taller." He shrugged.

Loras went back to the display. He came back a minute later. "What about these? Cute, huh?" Damon smiled a little and nodded. "For real? You like them?"

"Yeah. Get it." Loras still hung around chewing on his lip. Damon shifted and sat up a little. "Those are classic tennis shoes, they'll go with any casual outfit in your wardrobe." Loras beamed at him then remembered to put a cold face back on. It fit less and less each time he put it back.

He was looking at jackets when Damon came up with two long sleeve silk shirts with delicate floral prints. "Do you like these?"

"Oh my god!" Loras laughed and looked from the shirts, up at Damon, and back. "I love them! It's not too, I don't know... busy?"

"Look, just wear it with a solid neutral like this." Damon pulled out a navy blue military-cut wool jacket.

"You are so fucking good at this! 'Faking it'? Really?" Loras shoved Damon's shoulder, but his own hand gave, bending back, without moving Damon. His stomach sank and he remembered to stop smiling. He told himself to keep his mouth shut, but it was impossible when he was this curious. He finally snapped. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"Like... what happened to your father? Is that too personal, or... if you don't want to-"

"Well, you know I told you about the money Ramsay gave me?" Loras nodded. "When I gave it to my mom, that first day, she asked what he looked like." Loras scrunched up his face, not understanding. "She was upset that... I guess she felt like I should have got more information so she could get more money from... this imaginary person I said was my father." Damon smirked sadly and looked away.

"Oh," Loras said sadly at last.

Damon smiled, looking at his boots. "Ha ha, I told her he looked like Thor."

"What?! Oh fuck yeah! Thor could totally be your father!" Loras threw his hands up, grinning. "I mean, you know, how you _look like,_ ha ha. What did she say?"

The smile fell from Damon's mouth. He shook his head then smirked again. "Ramsay thought he would too... or he does, maybe." Loras burst out laughing. Damon smiled shyly. "What?"

"I just pictured-" he caught his breath and burst with energy like he had the night before, "like, Thor ok? But then Catwoman is your real mom that's why, ha ha, you have a leather fetish."

"You wanna to scream that any louder in a crowded store??"

" _You_ wanna get some leatherman shit? Ha ha, there's a place downtown-"

Damon grabbed his shoulder and leaned down, smiling. "Yeah, I know." Loras stopped laughing. Damon whispered in his ear. " _I have some specially made items. I'll show you if you want._ " Damon stepped back and wrapped his arm around Loras leading him to the next department. "You don't even have to ask." He looked at Loras with a meaningful flash of a grin. "You know what I mean?"

Damon had been waiting outside the dressing room for ten minutes. "You ok, princess?"

Loras cracked the door open. "Don't call me that. Come on."

"What's wrong?"

"I just... I have a hard time finding pants that fit." He was blushing. 

"Let me see."

He came out reluctantly. "See? If it's long enough it's too big in the thighs and... but the next size down is too short."

"Fuck it. We'll get you pants upstairs. You might like them better anyway."

"Why would they fit upstairs?" Loras pouted, frustrated. "I need to gain more muscle mass. This is pathetic!"

Damon raised an eyebrow. "It will fit upstairs because they tailor it. It's all custom in those shops. Haven't you been there before?"

"Noooo! Holy shit! I..." Loras suddenly panicked. 

"What's wrong now?"

"I don't... I don't have any money. Oh, fuck! I don't know how I'm going to-"

"I'm paying for it, dumbass. Are you hungry? I need to walk around and get some food."

"But, I don't know how I can pay you back. I kind of cut myself off. I didn't mean to... I didn't even think about it."

Damon stood and took his shoulders gently now. "Sweetie, it's ok. I'm paying for everything. Why are you crying?"

"I'M NOT!" Loras looked around to see if anyone was watching. "I'm sorry." He found he was crying. "Fuck! I was always such a brat to him... I didn't mean to-"

Damon hugged Loras and rubbed his back. "I'm sure you weren't. You were probably a normal twenty year old boyfriend. You should have had time to grow and smooth things out as you matured with him. I know he knew how much you loved him." An associate came into the dressing room area but stopped and went back out.

"I'm sorry," Loras pulled away and wiped his eyes when he regained himself. "That was so fucking stupid. I-I don't know what happened."

"It's alright."

"Are you mad? What if I never stop crying about him? Will you hate him? Or me?" Loras grabbed his left bicep and stepped back.

"Of course not." Damon knew it was true, but he had to think about why when Loras asked him. "Well, you have a really good heart and you're loyal. I respect that. I think... Renly?" Loras nodded. "Renly made you this person I love now so, in a strange way, I think I love him too." Damon said it simply, because it was just that simple. Loras stopped trembling and his eyes grew larger. "Not like you do, of course. He just... has a place in my heart." Loras still stared like he didn't understand so Damon tried again. "The thing is, I won't be mad if you love him and miss him until you die, ok?"

Loras nodded slowly. "Ok. Thank you."

Damon shrugged. "Let's go see what Norman Bates is doing. I'm starving."

They were waiting for the elevator when Damon got a call. He frowned and motioned for Loras to follow him to a seating area. "Hello? What?" He covered his other ear and squinted, leaning into the phone. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, sighing. "What happened? Yeah, yeah." He mimicked writing and shrugged with one shoulder. Loras nodded and hurried to a kiosk.

He came back with a borrowed pen and fished out a receipt from one of his bags. Damon mouthed, 'thank you.' "Where is it?" Damon wrote against the glass wall of the elevator. "North or South? I can't hear you. Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't say anything until a lawyer gets there. Did they set bond yet? Well did they even finish processing you?" Damon rolled his eyes and shook his head. "So where's Lysie? MOM! Do the police have her? Is she with special services or a social worker? _Where is she_? Did you tell them she's special needs? Do they know to about- well," he threw his hand up, " _FOR WHAT_? Evaluate her _for what_?! What hospital?!" Damon gritted his teeth and dropped his voice. " _You better fucking find out if you want one god damn fucking cent from me._ " He hung up and grabbed his head.

"What happened?"

Damon took a deep breath. "Let's go smoke, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure."

Damon sat on the curb in the parking garage. People came in and out, mostly by the doors. Other people were yelling on phones, waiting for rides or hookups, or smoking and looking lost like him. Loras paced behind him awhile, looking at his broad shoulders curling slightly, his barrel chest bending in on itself. He looked so big one instant, so small the very next. Loras finally sat beside him. "What happened, Damon?"

"My mother's in jail. She says my little sister's in the hospital but she doesn't know why or which one or if she's been released. I just have to call her grandmother... but I'm..." he took a drag and exhaled slowly. He shook his head. "This fucking sucks. She was supposed to drive Lysie to her grandmother's. What the fuck happened?" 

"Lysie? That's your sister?"

Damon nodded. "Look," he pulled up his shirt sleeve to show a tattoo of a red bull's head over a line of little white flowers. Damon smiled when Loras lightly traced them. "She loved that story. It's this picture book about a bull who doesn't..." he stopped himself and cleared his throat. "She called me Diamond."

"'Calls' right? That's what she _calls_ you." Loras put and hand on Damon's back.

Damon just shook his head. "I don't know. Chantelle said she'll call me in an hour."

"Let's try to eat, ok? You can't just sit here and worry. Call Charlie Manson." Loras smiled for Damon and Damon felt a little better.

 

"Baby," Ramsay pulled Reek by his thin wrist, "come here."

"I can see." 

"Come here." 

"Oh fuck." Ramsay pressed him against the glass. Reek's knees quivered feeling loose in their sockets. His stomach was bubbling acid.

"It's only ten stories."

"Uh huh."

"Feels weird when you don't see anything under your feet."

"Hmm, yup." 

Ramsay set his chin on Reek's shoulder and wrapped an arm around his chest. "What if it breaks? What if a cable is this close to snapping?" He felt Reek's heart beating faster as his chest expanding a little more with each breath. "What if one jump would make it snap at last? Wanna see?"

"No!" Jeyne cried out.

Ramsay turned around laughing at her. "Like this?" Ramsay jumped and the glass elevator shook a little. Jeyne screamed and Alyn laughed but Reek just stared at the floor so far below. Ramsay was annoyed he wasn't playing. He pushed him forward. Reek just put both hands on the glass and kept staring. Ramsay frowned and starting charming Jeyne to get under his skin. By the time they reached the third floor Ramsay was getting impatient. Reek kept his hands on the glass like he was looking out of a cage. Ramsay spun Reek around and pushed his back against the glass. "Who are you staring at?!"

"What?" His face crinkled immediately in genuine confusion.

"You checking someone out, baby?"

"No! Checking out what? The top of their head? They all looked like a swarm of ants." He smiled then. "Anyway, I only have eyes for the the top of your head."

"Yeah?" Ramsay tilted his head like he was flattered.

"I wrote a whole poem about it, a sonnet."

"Good." Ramsay grabbed his ass and kissed him. Reek wondered when he'd finally get small enough to stop shrinking inside. Ramsay bit his lip until he whimpered. He pulled Reek forward by lip he'd trapped until Reek bent his knee slightly and looked up into the winter eyes that sent bitter winds whipping around him. Ramsay released him and kissed his forehead. The doors opened and people shoved in. Ramsay slung an arm around Reek's neck and pushed through the people in his way. 

"Hey!" A man on his phone shoved into Jeyne. She stumbled back into the elevator. Ramsay punched him in the kidney, and pulled her roughly out before the door closed on the man's stunned face uselessly struggling to suck air in.

"You ok?" Ramsay played the concerned friend, putting his hand on her shoulder, and glanced over to see if Reek fucking noticed him yet. He was just staring straight up into the air above them like Ramsay didn't exist.

"Ow!"

"Oh," Ramsay turned back to Jeyne. "Sorry. Guys like that piss me off. You hungry?"

"Yeah," she smiled sweetly, "um, I think I should probably get going after we-"

"DAMON!" Ramsay pulled her along waving his hand in the air for Damon to see. 

"Hey." Reek woke up and looked around. Alyn raised an eyebrow and motioned for him follow. "Let's go."

Reek feigned a weak smile and hurried to catch up. He wasn't worried though. He'd never felt so serene and sure just like the clear, still, warm water the lagoon that was his many lives ago.


	97. Kind of Sad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's a matter with you?"

Ramsay looked at Loras chewing his lip. "What's wrong with him? Is he being grumpy because you talk too much? You know what you do? Just slap him around a little like this." Ramsay smacked Damon's face. He pulled out of reach without smiling. "What?"

"Chantelle's in jail."

"Aw, shit. Where are they?"

Damon grimaced. "She wasn't making a lot of sense. She said Lysie's in a hospital somewhere for some reason."

"What do you need?"

"Maybe a lawyer. I don't really know yet. She's supposed to call me back in an hour."

"Well... let's eat. After she calls, we'll go from there."

Damon nodded. Alyn punched Damon's arm lightly. Damon rubbed his buzzed head. "I'm gonna go get a burger."

"I'm getting sushi. Anyone else?" Ramsay shined in the center of his friend's orbits.

"I want sushi!" Loras raised his hand. Jane giggled at him and joined Damon. 

Reek felt overwhelmed. The food court was so crowded. Ramsay made him leave his jacket in the car. He felt so vulnerable without it. Everyone seemed to look at his bandages and whisper. Damon started to walk off with Jane. He looked so sad. "Damon-" he stopped when Ramsay grabbed his bad wrist. Damon turned around and waited.

"You like sushi, don't you, baby?"

"Ow!  _Yes_!" he gasped. Ramsay grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer then called out, "Everyone come back here. Drop your bags so no one takes the table. What? Who the fuck is going to steal from _you_ , Damon?"

Alyn started walking off to get pizza. Damon frowned, dropped his bags at the table, and left with Jane. While they were crossing the food court, two more people bumped into Reek. A girl smiled and winked at him. He pushed in close to Ramsay and felt better when Ramsay's arm slid over his shoulders. When they got in line, Reek's heart started pounding. Choices felt dangerous.

"Wow!" Loras took Ramsay's wrist and Ramsay let him, raising an eyebrow. "Did you just get this today?!" Reek felt like a cannonball hit him in the stomach but he didn't flinch.

"Yeah! You like it?" 

"Yeah! God, I want a watch! Hey, if everything is ok with Damon, we should all go dancing. I haven't been out and done things in so long; I don't want to stop."

"I know! People always puss out after a few hours. Why does it have to stop? 'Uh, I wanna go be sad by myself, that's why.' What are you ordering?"

"I don't know!" Loras threw his hands up, shrugging. "What's good here? Is it good? I'll try it!"

"I'll order for us. Go sit down." He raised Reek's chin. "You're shaking."

"What?"

"Go sit down."

Reek looked around nervously. It was so loud and big and chaotic, he couldn't think. He used to live like this? This used to be nothing, not even exciting; he was bored by malls. Now it felt like a mob, a jungle. The pieces of his life didn't make sense together. It was Theon, not him. He couldn't get by in the world alone. "But-"

"WHAT?" Ramsay demanded.

"Theon! Show me what you bought!" Loras motioned for him to follow. 

He looked at Ramsay, unsure, but found a definite answer. He lowered his head and went after Loras. 

"Well?"

"Huh?" Reek sat, rubbing his dizzy head. Everyone seemed to look at him with a disgusting mix of fear and pity. 

"Show me what you got!"

Reek looked at Loras incredulously. "I forgot how impressionable you are," he muttered and leaned his forehead against his propped up fist. After a moment he sighed and looked Loras in the eyes. "Listen to me, ok? I'm going to distract them, soon. That's when you have to leave. It's just a distraction. You'll know when, and then you  _have to leave._ Ok?"

Loras shook his head. "I'm not leaving without you."

"YOU HAVE TO!" Reek scanned around frantically to see who heard him. Ramsay was talking to a girl in line, Damon was standing with his back to them, but Alyn was heading back already with his food. "It's the only way! Just leave! Get out of the North, never come back. Look-" he swallowed with some trouble.

"Theon-"

"You're a great person. You were such a good friend. You made my life better. Do this for me. Let me give you this." He hand has almost touched Loras' when he realized what he was doing and snapped it back. He pulled at his shirt collar and tried to smooth his wavy hair. 

"OH MY GOD!" Loras slammed his hands on the table. "No! No, no! I know what you're really saying!"

" _Loras_!" Reek whispered, motioning for him to lower his voice.

"Ah mah gahh!" A husky boy with a patchy beard and round face mimicked behind Loras. 

Loras face went cold. His hands clenched, almost making fists, but he tried to focus. "Oh, honey, Damon _said_ you were-"

"Ohhhh! Honey!" The boy's friends laughed like braying donkeys. The three of them looked younger than Reek, certainly younger than Loras. They were all wearing trucker caps, jeans and camo. Loras made a face Theon remembered. Reek started to panic; he had no idea what to do. Where the fuck was Ramsay? He wanted to hide in his leather jacket until everything went away. It was too much and he _didn't know what to do._

Loras stood up and turned around slowly. "I'm talking to my friend. Mind your own fucking business."

"Or what?!" The boy jumped up, encouraged by his friends laughter. "FAGGOT!"

"You wanna go outside?"

The boy stood up with his hefty, and somewhat muscular, friends. "Shit, fag, let's all go outside!"

A platter of sushi dropped on the table. "Why aren't you fucking your sister instead of talking to faggots? Your little prick can't fill her up like daddy's? Or is there a pig who goes into heat every time it hears Nickleback playing through your pickups shit stock speakers?" Ramsay smiled wildly. The loud-mouthed one lost his voice and found his seat. "Aw, don't sit down. We're so fucking bored! This is great! Loras, weren't we  _just_ saying how fucking bored we are?"

Loras smiled. "Yeah."

"Yeah! Three, ha, strong hunters against one pretty faggot- that's not very sporting for sportsmen. So there's me, well that's too faggots against you big boys; a little better. My sweetie over there, he's all broken up over our last fight. Hey!" He shoved Loras by the shoulder. "I know! Get  _your sweetie._ Go on! Three on three, right?" Loras grinned and ran off. 

"Ramsay," Reek called, "please don't. There's police everywhere."

"Shut your mouth, baby. You'll know to open it when my dick's in your face." 

Reek curled in on himself. He had wanted out of that house for so long, now he wondered what the point was supposed to be? It didn't change anything for the better. In the house, things were more clear. When Ramsay was more in control, there were fewer ways he could fuck things up. But, it was alright. It would be alright.

"Where do you, uh, gentlemen want to work things out? The third level of the south parking garage is usually empty and there aren't any cameras. The boys all scrambled to get away. "What? Is Damon here?" He turned around and looked up. "Oh, Damon's here. Where are you going? Three on three! Come on! You fucking pussy ass bitches!" He looked around. "And where the fuck is Alyn?!" 

"He's talking to a girl," Jane pointed out.

"No way!" Ramsay whipped around to find him. Damon stormed past. "No! No, no, Damon!" Ramsay grabbed his arm with both hands and slid along the floor trying to stop him. He had to kind of skip and jog until he was dragged along. "Stop!" he was laughing so hard he could barely speak. "COPS!" Damon stopped. Ramsay pulled himself up. "I just wanted to scare them, it's fine."

"It's not funny."

"I know. I'm sorry." Ramsay tried to catch his breath. "Damon." Damon exhaled at last and looked down at him. "He's ok."

When they came back to the table Loras was telling Alyn and Jane what had happened; acting everything out.

"Well?!" Alyn snapped. "Let's go find them!"

"Not worth it," Damon muttered.

"You guys are crazy! I'm glad I'm on your side!" Loras hugged Damon and laughed. Damon's expression softened. "You're so fucking creepy... maniacal. Don't hate me again, ok? You don't hate me anymore, right?" Loras was buzzing.

Ramsay couldn't help but smile. "Nah. I don't hate you, princess."

"Well, maybe I can earn a cooler nickname then! Is there, like, a way to do that? What if I stab a guy? Can I be 'Stabby'? Ollle' Stabby!" Ramsay and Jane laughed, Damon grinned. "No? Let me get a cool nickname! What can I do?"

"Kill the Pope," Jane volunteered.

"Fuck yes! I'll be the Pope-roaster! Is that cool?"

"Rope-a-Pope?" Jane suggested.

"Wait!" Ramsay cried out. "Where the fuck did he go?!"

Loras stopped laughing and turned to Theon's empty seat. "Oh no." 

 


	98. My Only Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh no? Oh what? Where is he?" Ramsay pressed, getting closer to Loras.

"He just, before those guys started being assholes, he was saying 'it's a distraction' and 'you have to leave' and he was-"

"WHAT?!"

"- saying goodbye."

Ramsay took out his phone and called the one he gave his Reek. "What are you doing, puppy?"

"I'm sorry. This is for the best, I promise. I love you. Thank you-"

"Shut up!" Ramsay mouthed to Damon 'echoing' and pointed to his ear. Damon made his fingers stomp up invisible stairs. Ramsay heard footsteps clanging against metal into fading duplicates and nodded. "Sit down, right now."

"I can't. Listen to me, please, I have to tell you this!"

"No, no, no! No you fucking don't. No, I'm not taking any apology or goodbye or explanation unless it's in person." Damon showed Ramsay a map on the mall of his smart phone and pointed to the three stairwells it listed. Ramsay pointed to himself and the closest one to the food court. He pointed to Damon and Loras then the second closest stairwell by the elevator, to Alyn and Jane then the furthest stairwell by the parking garage. Damon nodded and gave instructions while Ramsay started running.

"I can't do that. Please, just listen, then I'll come back."

"You're lying! You're fucking _lying_ to me! I always know when you're lying!" Ramsay shoved his way through the crowd and peered over heads trying to find the damn door. "Stop where you are," he tried to speak as lovingly as he could. "Baby, you're scaring me. I'm not mad, I know you have your issues. You're scared and confused, puppy. Just sit down and tell me where you are. We'll go home, just you and -"

"Ramsay, you're so close to being happy. You're done with me. You won."

"Shut up."

"I not going to be something good in your life anymore. I'll be boring then a burden and then a sore. I'm the only one hurting you-"

"Shut up! Shut up and _sit_ on the god damned fucking floor!" Ramsay burst through the stairwell door. His furious march reverberated in the stairwell. It sounded like the stairs were being pounded by a hammer, yet he had no weight. He was a ghost flying through a substanceless nightmare. "Where are you? What are you doing?!"

"I'm making you sick. I'm holding you back. Your father's right, I'm weak and a weakness- you're only weakness. We both need to be free-"

"I'm not listening to this. If you leave me-"

"I love you. You're the only home I ever had-"

"I'M NOT _LISTENING_ TO THIS BULLSHIT!"

"You're my only friend. You saved me." Theon couldn't hold back the weeping and longer. Morning everyone, the people he never really touched but was touched by deeply. He'd never done anything good for anyone, until now. "This is the end. It's beautiful."

" _SHUT THE FUCK UP_!" Ramsay felt like he was getting nowhere. Just treading the same steps while his Reek slipped through his aching hands.

"Like what you gave me; it's meaningful, it's wonderful, and I'm living now. I need you to know-"

" **TELL ME TO MY FACE**!" Ramsay hung up and staggered back when he looked up the stairwell. As his words bleed around him, he almost lost his footing. He started climbing again.

Loras and Damon came to the stairwell next to the elevator. Loras pulled Damon's sleeve and pointed to the three walkways crossing the atrium above them. "I think that's what he was staring at."

Theon tried calling Ramsay again as he came to the top of the stairs but there was no answer. He wiped his eyes and tried to focus on the screen and its phantom double which bounced when he blinked.

**I'm sorry. I love you. I want you to be happy. Live a great life for me.**

He opened the door slowly and looked around. This was the real top floor, the real destination. It was an old office suite which was undergoing remodeling. He stepped over the DO NOT ENTER sign and pushed through the tape. It was warm and safe. The smell of dirt and clay permeated the stagnant air. The brand new shoes Ramsay just bought him stirred up puffs of dust. The swarming crowd below roared peacefully, almost like the ocean. He could hear it now. He stepped over a stack of two by fours, scraping his shin, and approached the balcony. He took off his new shoes and socks. He looked over the ledge and drew a sweet breath.

He wasn't afraid.

"THEON!"

He found Loras without meaning to. Waving his hands above his golden hair on a walkway below. Theon screwed his eyes shut, wishing Loras away. His phone vibrated in his pocket. 'DAMON.' He looked at Loras holding a phone to his ear and waving. "ANSWER IT!"

"Loras?"

"Hey!"

"What the fuck are you doing?! You're supposed to leave! That's the whole point! That's what _has to happen_!"

"I can't." 

"But..." Theon leaned on the cool railing. "This... it will fix everything."

"No, it won't. It will hurt."

"No, no, you're supposed- you _have_ to leave. We'll separate. They can't catch us both."

"Theon,"

"Please?"

"... you went up the stairs, not out the door. I'm not leaving either. I'm staying right here, ok? Talk to me. What are you doing?" 

Theon watched Loras sit on the crosswalk as people passed him by. "I'm making things they way they _should_ be. I should have been the one to die, that's where everything went wrong. See?"

"I don't-"

"The Starks should all be alive. My father should be alive. Robb, Robb shouldn't have... it was a mistake. Ramsay should be a _whole person,_ at last. He'll have to move on; that's what will happen. You should be moving on too, and not with Damon. You are such a _good_ person, Loras. You can't play with killers for long. It won't end well. Without you, Damon can leave Ramsay, and that's what _he_ has to do. This is what _I'm_ meant to do." Theon slipped his good foot between the railing and concrete. "This is the solution." _My absolution_. Ants swarmed into a welcoming ocean. Theon's bridge waited with divine patience. It all seemed so funny. He was really free. "Live a good life, Loras."

"Wait, Theon, don't do this to me!"

He almost hung up then added, "Don't look."


	99. Please Open Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon set the phone down next to his foot while it shook and yelled 'DAMON.'

He grabbed the railing as well as he could, pushed himself up with his good foot, slid the injured one next to it then drew deep his share of air. He put his arms out to his side and put his good foot on the cool railing. Loras stood with a gaping mouth slowly shaking his head. Theon stepped up, wobbling on the round metal and exhaled. He looked at Loras and smiled. Theon stuck his injured foot out like he was putting his toe in the clear lagoon to feel its temperature when hot pressure snapped around his shoulders and stomach. He saw Loras run as he was pulled back.

"No-" The ocean below slipped away. "NO!" His serenity smashed under the resolute grasp entrapping him. "No, no, no! Damon, no- its.."

Theon remembered this feeling, like a balloon floating towards the sun. It was coming. "Oh, its happenen- iz happah..." his face froze and sagged. His eyes only stared blindly but inside, he was bursting with light. His form expanded, its particles emanating into the cosmic ocean calling him. He tried to tell Damon how he'd found the key, the way, his _purpose_. He told Damon that he saw everything now. His father had sent him a message. Balon's sacrifice was an atonement, at last, and Theon forgave him with love and understanding. Through Balon's death the universe had showed Theon how to join it in peace and silence. Jumping would fix _everything_. It was hisrequiemand it was glorious.

Damon kept his arms wrapped around Theon as the boy went limp, stiffened and jerked. Damon backed up until he touched the wall, then slid down, keeping Theon in his lap. None of Theon's revelations were expressed. No light had escaped his empty eyes. He only opened his mouth as if to speak and shut it again.

Loras burst through the door and fell over the caution sign. "Christ!" Damon barked. "He's fine! Look where the fuck you're going." Loras groaned and pulled himself up. He walked around the woodpile and sat next to Damon. 

Theon stiffened and sank back a little. Loras leaned over to look at him. "Theon, look at me. Hey... Theon?" Theon stared ahead. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, his chin bobbed, he smacked his lips. Loras looked at Damon, "What's he doing?"

"I don't know. What the fuck are we going to tell Ramsay?!" Damon leaned his head back on the wall. Theon swallowed and opened his mouth slightly. He froze for a moment and then blinked as if trying to see again. He touched his shirt three times with dumb, sluggish, movements.

"I'll call him." Loras took out the phone Damon had given him.

"Wait, we have to make a plan first-"

"Ramsay? Damon has him. He's safe. I think he's snapped though. He's... gone." Loras stopped and knelt in front of Theon. "No. He's not shaking or anything. Well, he keeps, like, wanting to say something but then doesn't. Um, like, a minute- if that. Yeah, his jaws kind of bobbing and he's pressing his lips together but mostly he's just staring into space. How do you know all this? He seemed mad at me, then he just stopped making sense. Why would he be mad at me? Ok, ok. Yeah, bye." Damon furrowed his brow. "What? Theon got jealous and lost his mind. Thank goodness Ramsay's here, he knows him so well. I can tell Theon's trying to ask for him."

"Why are you talking like that?"

"Ha-ha-" Theon swallowed and groaned. He blinked and furrowed his brow. He pursed his lips and stared blindly again. "Hmm."

"Hey," Loras touched Damon's knee and smiled sadly, "we saved someone."

Damon smirked. "Huh." He patted Loras' hand then stood, lifting Theon in a bear hug.

It was long, awkward trip home. Ramsay had been pacing by the car when they arrived. Damon was leading Theon, who was able to follow in his fog. He tried to talk more and more as minutes passed, but he still wasn't saying anything. Ramsay ran up to him and clutched his head so hard he expected an cry to escape Reek and sooth him, but he just opened his mouth uselessly. Ramsay put his forehead to his Reek's and slowly shook his head 'NO' pressing against his skull so that Reek's head rolled with his. He pulled back a little and saw a tear in his Reek's eye.

"I haaa-hap-" Theon shut his faulty mouth and sighed. He shook his head 'NO' once more and dropped his chin to his chest.

"Are you sure it's not a stroke? Shouldn't we take him to the hospital?"

Ramsay ignored Loras. "Did you have another vision, puppy?" Theon nodded. "About me?"

Theon struggled to make his mouth work. "It was igzilyak renantak."

"I can't understand you."

"No?"

"Nooooo," Loras seconded.

"For hnn, wait." Theon looked up like he was rehearsing the line in his head. "For to about."

"Your words aren't working. Just," Ramsay grabbed Reek's hair and smelled it, "shut up and get in my car." Damon guided Theon to the back seat and made sure he didn't hit his head. Loras watched Ramsay. "What?"

"He wanted you. He had some idea that he was helping you. You think you might have hit his head so hard that his words won't come back together?"

"It's a seizure, you fucking idiot. He's had them before. Get in." Ramsay pointed and slammed the door after Loras climbed in. He stopped Damon before he walked around to the passenger's side. "Damon," he held his arm as he finished with some feeling in voice, "you're a good man. Good job." He released Damon and got in the drivers seat.

Alyn was taking Jeyne home in his car. It was silent in Ramsay's until Theon found his words again.


	100. Fix of Injustice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They drove an agonizing twenty minutes in silence, Ramsay didn't even put music on.

Loras cleared his throat. Ramsay adjusted the rear view mirror so he could give Loras a cold stare. Loras rolled his eyes and shifted in the backseat. He turned to look at Theon and found him grinning like a happy drunk. 

"I saw everyzak, Loras!  _I understand_ ," he spoke quickly with a vibrant passion Loras pulled away from. "You shouldn't have stopped me. You tricked me. You mizinak me you while Damon snuck up. I forgive you though; I understand. I forgive everyone, even me, because I can fix it!"

Loras drew his hand flatly across his throat and mouthed, ' _SHUT UP!_ '.

"It was amazing. On the bridge I just... I really _saw_ everything. It was so beautiful..."

"What bridge? What the fuck is he saying?" Ramsay eyes bored into Loras who smiled and shrugged.

"I mean- he's lost his mind. We have to take him to a hospital."

"Damon," Ramsay said carefully.

"What?"

"Where did you find him?"

"Um..."

"Ramsay, it was amazing! I saw what I had to do, to make things right, to help you! It's my purpose, my destink."

"Loras." Loras looked into the rear view mirror. "Shut him up before I kill us all."

"I... well, can I..." Loras put his palms up and tilted his head.

Ramsay tore into every word gripping the wheel. "Cover his mouth with your hand. I need you to do that for me." 

"Yeah, yeah!" Loras unbuckled his belt and slid over. "Theon, let's play the quiet game, ok? You and me! Let's see who can be quiet the longest!"

"Loras is right. We should take him to the hospital. He's insane. Oh," Damon sighed, "like his mother, right? His mother's insane, huh? Poor kid."

"HE IS _NOT INSANE_! I told you, it's just a seizure. I know what this is! It's happened before!" Ramsay rubbed his temple and swerved around a car useless enough to be going the speed limit. "I... I made mistakes. It will be fine." 

 _"Stress and lack of sleep are the most likely to trigger an episode,"_ Qyburn had told Ramsay after looking over the medical records Balon's assistant had sent. " _All recreational drugs should be avoided; especially cocaine, amphetamines, and MDMA."_ He droned on and on about the consequences; _"...mood and personality changes, delusional thinking, intense spiritual experiences, memory loss... I can prescribe an antidepressant which has been very effective in treating epilepsy..."_

 _"Yeah, I know all this. He's not depressed anymore and he's not doing drugs."_ Ramsay had told him, flippant and irritated.

"Usually he just stares into space and you can't wake him up. Sometimes he looks like he wants to talk but doesn't. It's usually so quick that you, apparently, never even noticed. It happens at night... usually he just moves his hand and moves his mouth like dying fish. Sometimes he screams and calls for me." 

Ramsay thought about this morning when he woke up to Reek's arm in the air above them, his other arm curled on his chest. Ramsay thought he was calling for his mother, but the second time he cried out the word was clear and Ramsay's heart broke and grew stronger. Ramsay put on a show his Reek would be calmed by and even opened the curtains so he could see the sun he missed. He woke himself up with a scream.

 _"Ramsay?"_  

 _"Yeah. You were calling me. I'm right here."_ He wrapped around his Reek. His breath became softer and slower against the hair on Ramsay's arm. Ramsay rubbed the bridge of his nose into Reek's messy hair. It smelled like home.

"Damie," Ramsay asked, soft and hoarse, "where did you find my boy?"

Damon looked back at Theon. Loras shook his head with wide, insistent eyes. "At this, like, crosswalk thing. Airway? Walkway? It was like a bridge I guess." Ramsay drew quick, sharp gasps through his nose. He kept his clenched mouth shut. "He... I caught him."

"Ugh." Ramsay half-gasped, half-vomited the utterance. 

"It was Robb's shoes you threw in the back of your car-"

"Theon," Loras smiled and pet his hair, "you lost the game. Try again."

"But, he has to believe me, or he'll be mad at me. It was Robb's phone Luton threw to you. You're setting him up as some kind of serial killer and you'll use me to stab Robb in the back. Right? Right, Ramsay? Right?"

"Theon, please, please be quiet. Are you hungry? I bet you're hungry and thirsty-"

"It was your father that ordered the hit. He's the only Englishman with the power to. I read the order. I tried to translate it for Mr. Stark in time. The cosmos showed me. It was like... the eye of god. Get your hand off me! I have to tell him! Do you believe me now? I'm not crazy! I saw everything so clearly! The universe woke me! It showed me you're not a monster after all-"

"Shut up." Ramsay gripped the wheel with white knuckles.

"-you're sick-"

Loras covered his mouth and held him tight. He whispered sweetly. "Shhh. Rest now. He thinks you're crazy now. Tell him tomorrow; then he'll listen to you. Ow! Why are you mad at me? Why is he mad at me?!" 

"He's jealous," Ramsay muttered, exiting off the highway. He looked over his shoulder at his Reek. "You need to get that shit the fuck under control." Theon started giggling under Loras' hand. He laughed until he had to grab his sides. " _WHAT THE FUCK IS SO FUNNY?"_

Theon ripped away Loras' hand. "I need to get _my j_ ealousy under control?! I almost died with this _thing_ on me! What would the coroner think?!" Theon kept laughing like the madman Loras and Damon thought he'd become.

"Almost died, huh?" Ramsay said calmly. Something clicked in Theon's shattered mind.

"I... I wanted to help you."

"Hmm, yeah, sure. Makes sense." Ramsay drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Ramsay, I'm sorry."

"Oh! Oh, you're sorry! Well, good! Great, that's really great. He's sorry! Then it's fine, really. It's all just fine. Who fucking gives a fuck?"

"Please, please, stop talking," Loras whispered. Theon looked up at him with hopeless sobriety. "I know you're sick," Loras said a little louder. "You're not thinking clearly. Just rest now." Theon let himself be held and silenced.

Damon's mother never called him back. Damon called Lysie's grandmother but got no answer. He couldn't find the courage to call again and told himself he'd try in the morning. When they pulled into the garage Loras found he couldn't open his door. Damon and Ramsay got out. The garage was dark and smelled faintly of oil.

Ramsay came around to the passenger side to Damon. He glanced at his broken Reek and saw him in shades of burning red. "Take him to the basement." Damon drew and deep breath and grabbed the handle while Ramsay walked away. "Put him in his cage."

Ramsay headed towards the shed. He'd kept it up since Ben left. This is where they built most of the dog pen, where Ben used to make his leather. It still smelled like leather. Ramsay got to work, measuring and cutting the wood. He remembered his girls, how he found them suffering with the poison Domeric gave them. He had to put them down with his hunting riffle to stop their suffering. He'd buried them under the dog pen's ashes after he razed it. 

Cutting made him feel a little better. He went to the house to grab a bottle of tequila and a salt shaker. He came back after a few shots and felt much better when he started hammering.  


	101. Safe as Houses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon shut the basement door with his back and leaned against it.

The screaming was silenced as soon as the door shut. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair when he saw Loras watching him. He had a strange look on his face; like his eyes were burning but his face was ice. "What?" Damon grumbled.

"He can't be left alone like this. What are you doing?"

Damon took a dark beer from the fridge and slammed the door. He popped the cap off with his teeth and spit it in the garbage. "Well, someone has to watch him. I don't think it should be you though." Loras' mouth pinched tighter with indignation but, his eyes grew larger with hurt. "I know you want to help but you jump into things without thinking. There's being decisive and being impulsive." Damon took a long swig, then raised an eyebrow. "Do you hear that?"

Loras looked out the windows. "Oh my god!" He stumbled back Damon. "He has a chainsaw! He's going to massacre us!"

"It's his table saw. Hear the wood going through it?" Loras stared blankly. Damon took one of Loras' smooth, delicate hands in his own, tracing his palm. "I guess you wouldn't know." He pushed a wild lock out of Loras' eyes. "I'll watch Theon." He grabbed Loras by his shoulders and held him firmly. "You're not going to pull any shit are you? I am just about _out_ of patience. Get yourself some food and stay _here_ in the kitchen, or _there_ in that entertaining room. Can you do that for me?"

"Ok."

"We had a good time didn't we? Before-" Damon cut himself off and took his beer and a water bottle from the fridge. He grabbed an oatmeal bar from an overhead cabinet and opened the basement door. He gave Loras a final look of warning and headed downstairs. Loras watched the basement door close then looked out the dining room windows.

Theon was still screaming for Ramsay when Damon opened the door but stopped when it shut. Damon heard him shuffling, his frantic breaths only screams reigned in. He'd panicked, but he hadn't fought Damon; he never really would. Damon dragged a chair over the cage. It's metal legs whined against the concrete floor. Damon handed him the cold bottle of water and the oatmeal bar. "Get that in you."

Theon rested his against the side of his cage, positioning his spine between the bars where it protruded. "Thank you." He tried to make himself eat and drink but it was so hard to get the tasteless substance past his dry mouth. "I hope your sister is ok," he said at last. "I'm sorry... about everything."

"Yeah."

Theon wrapped his arms around his knees and hid his head.

Damon finished his beer. It clanged hitting the floor. "My job is to watch out for you. That's what he told me to do. I'm not a fuck up, Theon. I actually give a shit. I know you've had a hard life. I know you've lived with death, probably since you can remember. I get that you're sick and you're just a kid but, well- here you fucking are. You're alive and you have a task; keep Ramsay sane. That's the hand you were dealt. Grow up and face it. Stop running." Damon got up and knelt by Theon. "You can dream about how things should or could be; that's what dreaming's for, not living. Life doesn't give a flying fuck how things ought to be; it only offers what is and you have to deal with it whether you like it or not."

Theon nodded and blinked his shining eyes. 

"I'll hang out for awhile, ok? If Ramsay doesn't come or call in half an hour, I'll talk to him."

"Thanks for catching me, Damon," Theon said, a little muffled by his limbs.

Damon smirked a little. "Well, you're a real likable fuck up."

Theon peered over his knees and smiled sadly, then hid his face again.

Loras crept through the lawn following the hammering until he saw the light from the shed's window. He tried to take slow, light steps, rolling his foot. He skirted the light on the on the grass and crept to the window.  The wood was cold and scratchy against the palms of his hands. He listened to the hammering for awhile before peering in the window. It almost looked like Ramsay was making a canoe. He didn't seen any weapons within Ramsay's reach. Ramsay passed his line of sight, smoking a cigarette. Loras pulled back and took a deep breath. He heard wood running smoothly against wood and then a weight hitting a hard floor and being dragged across it towards the door.

Loras leapt from the shed and ran to the house in darkness as the wind rushed against him. He stopped behind the sliding glass door before closing it and heard something being dragged through the dirt and night with all the secrets they obscured. He slid the door shut and backed away. The sound grew louder and closer but he couldn't see anything beyond the sliding glass door. The sound stopped. It was silent. Loras got closer to the glass, peering out, until a wild face slammed against it. 

"OH SHIT!" Loras jumped and stumbled back. 

Ramsay's grin was wide and dangerous like his eyes. He sent the glass door rolling back on its tracks and stepped inside. "Hey, sneaky snake. Tell Damon to come outside and help me."

Loras looked Ramsay over. "Ok." He went to the basement door and knocked, unsure if he should open it. After a moment the door fell away and Damon loomed over him. "Ramsay wants you outside." Damon patted his head and started towards the patio. "Should I-" Loras called out. "What about Theon?"

"If I'm not back in five minutes, go check on him." Damon stopped on the porch to light a cigarette. He took that first, best, drag then it was ripped away. "Hey-"

"Damie," Ramsay rasped and pulled at the waist of his jeans, searching for the fly. 

"No." Damon grabbed Ramsay's wrists. 

"I need this. Just- do this for me. Ok?"

"No. Ramsay, no. Just go talk to him."

"But... what if I-"

"You won't." Damon released Ramsay's wrists and they fell to his side. 

"Ok." He paced around. Damon could hardly make him out. "But you have to help me."

"How?"

"Just say it. Just once." Ramsay rushed upon Damon so quickly he toppled over. Ramsay climbed on him, clutching his face with an unsteady hand. "Tell me you love me. Call me that word, ok? Just once. Do it for me."

"Don't. It hurts to."

"It's three words. You don't even have to mean it. Just lie for me." 

Ramsay and Damon came into the house a few minutes after Damon had vanished with him in the dark. Loras felt like he'd held his breath the whole time. Ramsay looked more relaxed but Damon looked sick. Loras jumped up. "Damon, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Open the basement door for us, would you?"

Loras stopped a moment then complied. "Shouldn't we all eat. Damon, did you eat at all today? You look so pale." Ramsay came past first holding the smaller end he smiled wickedly at Loras and winked as he descended the stairs backwards. 

Damon passed carrying the other end. "I'll be right back. _Stay here_."

Loras stomach cramped and burned up to his throat. "What is that? What are you doing?!" Damon slammed the basement door. Loras bolted to it but found it locked. It shook uselessly; strong, golden, and utterly useless.

 


	102. Shoot Myself to Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most days of his life, time was a track so straight and smooth Theon would forget he was traveling along it at all but today it jumped, skipped, bumped and reversed.

He kept thinking he'd been here for days or years, then remember it had only been hours, only to think he'd always been here minutes later. Damon came in and out, telling him things with a cold voice and apologetic eyes. He knelt by the cage once when Theon tried to eat and told him something about his job. Theon could hardly pay attention to his words but he saw Damon's sleepy eyes in exquisite detail for the first time. They were a warm honey brown with little flashes of forest green bursting from the iris. His long, soft, lashes caught the flickering light while he rambled on in tones firm but kind.

When he heard Ramsay coming down the stairs, he was more relieved than terrified; more resigned than defensive. Though he was lost to the details and gravity of the present, the clarity from the bridge had permanently crystallized something in his heart. It left a sliver of immutable serenity at his very core. Theon had so many urgent and beautiful ideas urgently pressing against his tongue, but he knew to be silent now. Ramsay was very unhappy.

Damon followed Ramsay down, they walked nearly in time despite their very different gaits. Theon leaned down to try to see better. Ramsay was walking backwards with Damon staying about six feet behind him. The object they carried to the light smacked against the hard floor and echoed. Damon and Ramsay walked towards the stairs. He could see Damon's legs stop at the landing. Ramsay's stayed a few feet behind. Damon leaned within arm's reach of Ramsay then pulled back and left them alone in the place where so many entered as people with Ramsay, and left with Damon as bodies. 

Theon exhaled and hugged his knees. He did feel sorry, _very sorry_. Ramsay would see that when he was gutted. Ramsay went to his work bench. Drawers opened and closed. Step by step, he approached the cage. Theon finally looked up, his big eyes shining.

A smile slowly pulled the corners of Ramsay's mouth. He tilted his head, studying Theon in the searing silence. A hot tear jumped when Theon blinked and soared, smashing against his chest. Ramsay dropped a gag and handcuffs on the roof of the cage then knelt at the door. Theon swallowed and tried to search Ramsay's face for direction. It was so hard to think, seeing everything at once. He saw Ramsay, a strange, lonely little boy, standover him after kicking his side.

_What's so special about you?!_

He remembered seeing his eyes for the first time.

_Where are you going?_

He saw him here, in the basement, slamming the cage shut and running away. There, on the steel support beam.

_You want to be a fucking martyr?_

Somewhere over there, where he had a target board.

_Tell me you're mine forever._

On his bed.

_There. Thanks, sweet puppy. Those are my favorite presents._

In his bed.

_Do you love me?_

Outside the gate.

_I won't let you go, you know that, and I won't let them hurt you. You're not allowed to die._

Outside the boys room.

_Hello. Where are you going?_

Ramsay unlocked the cage door. Theon clenched his jaw and leaned forward. His eyes didn't leave Ramsay's.

"Come here." Ramsay held onto the top of the cage kneeling in front of the door. Theon took a deep breath and crawled forward. Hundreds of the thoughts his jaw desperately tried to keep locked in his mouth were fighting to be free but Ramsay had exhausted his patience.

When Theon stopped at his knees, Ramsay crooked his index finger, scratching the tense air to beckon him. He stood and grabbed a gag off the the top of the cage. _Get on your knees and open your mouth, Theon_ , his mother whispered. _She pulled down a kind of carpeted railing from the pew in front of them. It's not just a cracker, its the flesh of our lord and savior. Her nervous little hands fluttered to his back and gently guided him._ Theon got up on his knees and opened his mouth. He smelled incense and bleach, the coppery smell of blood.

Ramsay slid the gag in his mouth. Theon's chest panicked first, hiccuping the way it did when Ramsay scared him. Ramsay stroked his hair. Metal clinged against the cage, then the cuffs clicked around his thin, abused, wrists. His arms started trembling he could hear his breaths quicken. Ramsay bent down and grabbed his hair. 

"You want to die, _Theon_? That's your solution? I used to think, sometimes, that maybe if I just had a part of you with me a could let you go but, your tears and hair were a comfort, not a cure. I thought about where you were, what you were doing, with who. I would obsess over whether you were hurting and lonely, like me, or if you were scared and calling for me and I was deaf and useless, or if you were happy with some piece of fucking garbage and had forgotten you'd even heard my name. It made me _crazy_. It broke me into many pieces and each one chased another scenario. I couldn't keep living while you were living somewhere else without me. I thought-" Ramsay paused. His eyes, lips and cheeks seemed a little rounder, like they had years ago when he was softer. "I thought maybe if I had some part of you with me, inside me, then you," he touched Theon's wet cheek with two fingers, "would infuse with me. You'd being living inside me; a part of you as parts of me. I thought, 'Well, maybe then I could finally be ok.' Then you came to me. I was so happy, wasn't I? Didn't you notice? I've been so..." he kind of laughed and twitched, " sofucking happy. I guess ... well, the universe, was it? God? God showed you a plan, a way, and so you didn't care if I thought I was happy. You knew better. You wanted to die. That's what you said."

Ramsay stood and paced in front of Theon. "That's what you tried to do; jump from your bridge. You found your answer. You didn't need my opinion. You knew better than me. I mean, who the fuck are you to refuse God? I understand. I guess I'll just try to cope as best I can, so I'm going to need something before you leave me. I'm really so very fucking hurt that you didn't... you didn't even leave me a note." Ramsay's face hardened, shrinking back against his skull while he grinned. "A text message just doesn't have the same fucking romance. A handwritten letter, in your next life, _please_. You love me enough to die for me? _Give me this_."

Ramsay kissed the gag lightly then fell upon Theon, hot hands everywhere, ripping at his clothes. His wet mouth, his sharp teeth struck Theon's heart, collarbone, neck and jaw. Ramsay spat in his right hand and it disappeared while Ramsay kissed up Theon's jawline. Theon could hear it Ramsay getting ready. His whimpers stretched into crying. Ramsay took Theon's earlobe into his mouth. His tongue and lips kneaded up the outside of Theon's ear. Theon's body moaned and hardened, betraying him again.

"You like that?" Ramsay whispered into his ear. It was so cold where his breath hit the wet flesh. "You won't miss it? Not enough to matter?" Ramsay tore down Theon's shorts and boxers. "Won't you miss me when you're dead?" Theon whined and moaned. Ramsay would hear no defense. Theon muffled scream rang in his own ears. He tried begging with his eyes, his body, his mind, _Please stay still! Please, just wait! Don't move!_ Ramsay heard no pleas. He kept coming, building speed, becoming an animal. "Don't I _matter_?" 

Theon knew he just had to get through it. It had to end. _Please just come. Oh god, please come. Make it stop._ Ramsay pushed his knees to chest so he curled up; swallowed under the attack. Ramsay pulled his head roughly to the side with a fistful of hair. His mouth enveloped Theon's ear and worked up. At the top of his ear the warm pressure released then snapped back leaving fire where his teeth had been. Theon clenched his teeth, cutting into the bit, muffling his scream.

Ramsay sat up with blood on the corner of his mouth. It curled up in his wild grin. His stuck his tongue out to show Theon his bit of flesh and blew a kiss before he swallowed it. He rolled his head back and groaned then eased forward slumping. Theon thrashed and screamed. Ramsay rolled back laughing. 

"You wanna die? You want to help me? Let me help you help me." Ramsay stood and buttoned his jeans. He grabbed Theon's ankles and dragged him to the light. 


	103. If I Loved Myself I'd Be Shooting You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon twisted against the hard floor scraping his back as Ramsay dragged him to the center of the basement.

"See  _this_ has the personal touch I'm fucking talking about," Ramsay called pulling him along. "I could have bought one or just used the oven, or a ditch, but where the fuck is the romance? A suicide text message? What would Shakespeare think?  I used to build a lot, all alone in that fucking shed. I built the pen for my girls, do you remember it? Did I ever tell you that? ' _If you really love something, let it go_ '. That's what my psychiatrist told me, but not a  _pet_ , right? If you let a pet go that's  _neglect._  It's cruel. So I built them them that pen with Ben. He made them all collars from my own handpicked leather."

Ramsay stopped dragging him at last. Theon's spine and ribs burned where skin had been scraped away. "But I didn't lock them in. I didn't keep them close enough. They died terribly because of my neglect. Anyway, I built this for you in that shed. I guess I'll have more time alone to kill... kill and build and burn but, apparently, I'll be better and happier so, I just can't fucking wait."

Theon whined and rolled onto his stomach. Ramsay stooped down to grab his arms and pulled him up to standing. He looked Theon in the eyes like he was searching for something. "You didn't even say goodbye. I will. I guess I love you more but, we both always knew that. Let's see how your plan works." Ramsay hugged him while he yelled into the gag and began to struggle. He brushed Theon's eyelid with a kiss. 

Then Ramsay spun him around to show him his gift. The anger that went into it's construction showed in its form. It splintered in places, came together at uneven angles, nails stuck out through corners. "It's not my best work but you didn't give me any fucking notice." Ramsay picked him up. Kicking and crying, Theon thrashed in his arms like he was drowning. Ramsay laid him down to rest but Theon sprang up to sitting with bulging eyes, screaming hysterically. "Shhh. It's alright. It's what you wanted. Goodbye, Theon. I love you so much." Ramsay picked up the lid and slid it up to his knees. It scraped against the groves where the angles were warped.Theon tried to hop and knock his coffin over. Ramsay grabbed his hair and pushed him down, pulling the lid above his waist, then over his head.

It was black and tight and Theon couldn't breathe. He tried to beg, to apologize, to explain, but he could only cry. His words were as trapped and hidden as he was. He rolled his head to the side and tried whimpering, like a dog, like a fucking dog, like Ramsay's puppy, _anything_.

Ramsay scratched the lid just a little, then his tight, black, airless world exploded five times as the first nail was hammered in, just above his right ear. He kicked at the lid with his brand new shoes, but it didn't give an inch. He screamed until he lost his voice. Five more nails, hammered five times each, and Theon lost his mind. He heard the hammer drop on the concrete floor, the sound slammed in between his eyes.

Theon waited, holding his breath as he heard Ramsay walk to his bench. A glass clinked against the metal surface, ice rang against the glass. Ramsay gasped and sighed. He walked back over to the coffin. Theon was drawing one long breath, shrinking his chest like vacuum.

A weight fell upon the lid and, in his terror, Theon thought it was the soil being shoveled on his grave. Then he heard Ramsay sobbing through the wood separating them. He was broken, crying like a lost child. Theon kicked the lid and pulled his mangled wrists against the metal binding them. He tried rocking to slam against the sides until he was too lightheaded and weak. Ramsay was burning in heartache all alone, weeping just inches from his face and all Theon could do was cry and listen. 


	104. Everyday I Pray, I'm the First to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The anger carrying Ramsay through his pain had been spent and he was so very weak now.

He soared through life from problem, to fix, looking for stimulation. Rage was so much better than this. Rage was power, this was astounding weakness. He couldn't stop crying.

"What do I now?" He curled up on the cold floor. "What I am I supposed to do _all alone_?"

Theon wanted to say he was sorry, he was right here, he'd never, ever try to die again but he couldn't say anything or even touch Ramsay. He had to lay there and listen to the pain he'd caused.

"Why would you leave me here alone? Why didn't you give me a chance to help you? I have the rest of my pointless, miserable, life to wonder why and what I did wrong, and if this thing I did made it worse, or if that thing you said was a cry for help, if this one moment pushed you over the edge, what everything meant and if you ever even..." the weight shifted on Theon's makeshift coffin. Clothing swished on the lid. "... _liked me_."

The weight lifted from the lid with a creak. "I didn't buy your friendship like I had to with everyone else. I thought... it just happened because we were meant to be together. Maybe I'm really meant to alone and dead inside. Maybe I am just a monster..."

Ramsay went to take another drink. He cleaned his face with a towel, smoothed his hair and straightened his shirt. He approached the coffin which had stopped bumping and shaking. He touched the lid and his hand curled as if contracting. "I guess," he looked at the head of the messy rectangle, "it's time to bury my heart."

Theon whimpered pitifully.

Ramsay smiled softly. "What? You don't want to die?" Theon and tried screaming something. " _I don't want you to try to talk!_ " He slammed his fist on the lid. Ramsay softened his tone. "You know me so well. Go with your first instinct; it made me feel better."

Theon drank in deep breaths through his nose, but he couldn't seem to get enough. He was so tired and dizzy. He whined shamefullly. _I'll be your beaten dog, just make it stop_.

"You want to stay with me? You want to make me happy?" Theon whimpered straight from his smothered heart.

Ramsay slid the lid out through its grooves without much struggle. Theon jerked his head up to smell the fresh air and fell back. Ramsay sat beside the head of his coffin, looking down on him with red eyes. "It was a trick." He smirked, still crushed. "I nailed the frame, not the lid. So..." he leaned against the coffin resting his elbows on it and staring ahead, "take that."

Theon tried to sit up but felt like he was at the bottom of the ocean.

"I said goodbye to Theon," Ramsay said coldly, staring into the dark, "I want my Reek."

Damon and Loras walked to the apartment Damon considered theirs, after eating left overs in unhappy silence. Damon had assured him Ramsay wouldn't kill Theon. "If he even thinks he might, he'd call me or his mother."

Loras shook his head. "Yeah, sure, call his mom. That's what I do when I'm about to disembowel a loved one, don't you?" Damon snorted. Loras didn't think it was funny.

They almost got to the apartment when Damon got a call. Loras' heart jumped up to his throat.

He's calling Damon to come get the body.

Damon extended his hand to the door as if to invite Loras inside. Loras nodded and closed the door behind him. "Hello? What's happening?"

Loras was ready when Damon came inside. "Is he dead?"

Damon looked down at him like he was speaking gibberish. "Who?"

"THEON!"

Damon shook his head. "No, no. I told you, he'll be fine." Damon wandered towards the kitchen in a daze. "I wouldn't let him kill the poor little fuck up." Loras exhaled and slowly walked over to Damon. "Maybe you should sleep in Dom's room." Damon leaned on the counter, gripping the corners of the sink, staring at the drain.

Loras stopped, squinting. "Wait, what? Who's Dom?"

"I mean... the room... if you're so worried, you could sleep down the hall from Ramsay and call me if you get scared."

"I... you want me to _leave_?"

Damon pushed himself up and nodded. His chest was heaving. 

"What?! What's going on?" Loras didn't know why he felt so insulted. 

Damon sighed and stood upright. "Well," he sighed, then spun suddenly and tore the refrigerator from the wall with one heave. It crashed against kitchen counter. The freezer door on top fell open and ice trays bounced off the door, into the sink. Damon bobbed his head a few times, as if rocking himself, then grabbed a bar stool chair from the other side of the counter and threw it through the kitchen window with a shattering smash. He stood, licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry."

"Is it... was that... your sister?" Loras asked, gasping for air. Damon nodded. "Is she... did she... pass?" Damon nodded and leaned against the kitchen wall. "Oh god," tears came to Loras' eyes, "she was just a little kid. I'm so sorry, Damon." 

Damon sank to the floor, staring at the tile. "Yeah."

Loras hurried to Damon and knelt in front of him. "What was that story about?" He held one of Damon's knees and rubbed his other leg. "The one behind your tattoo?"

Damon smiled faintly. "Heh, about this bull. Ever since he was a kid, the bull just wanted to watch the clouds and smell the flowers. He grew up to be the biggest bull in Spain. Everyone wants him to fight matadors and butt heads with other bulls but, he won't. He makes this one matador look like a real asshole. Lysie thought that part was hilarious. But her favorite part was the end; he lives out his days peacefully with his pretty flowers."

Damon smiled and Loras started crying. "I'm sorry, Damon."

Damon sighed and blinked. "I wish I could cry."

Loras crawled into his lap and touched his long, square, blank face. "I'll do it for you, ok?"

Damon nodded and pulled Loras closer. "What's this?" He took filleting knife out the back of Loras' new belt. 

"I thought I had to kill Ramsay.... to save Theon." Loras looked up with tears pooling on his beautiful cheeks.

Damon clasped his hand over Loras' mouth. "ONE- _one disaster at a time_. Oh, you stupid fucking child." Damon pressed his eyes shut until he saw red.  _Naive, sheltered, spoiled, big-hearted, brave and stupid child._  He took a deep breath. "Cry for her in my place, please. I need that before I can-" his hand raised and almost made a fist before he dropped it. "We need to clear things the fuck up. Fuck!  _I can't deal with this right now_!" He threw the knife and it quivered halfway into the plaster wall. He held Loras tightly as he sat on the cold tile, the refrigerator laying at an angle on the counter next to them, pieces of glass strewn around the floor. 

"Ok, ok," Loras said softly. "What else did she like?"

"She _loved_ music.."

Ramsay lay Reek on his bed and pet his head. "If I take this out, you won't try to speak, will you?" Theon shook his head. Ramsay considered him grimly. His ear, wrists, forearm, chest and foot were bandaged. He looked so pretty. Ramsay took the gag out and gave him a drink of cool water. Theon gasped and panted. Ramsay set the drink down and grabbed his face roughly. "I had to get it _deep_ into your broken little mind, that you can NEVER do that again." 

Theon nodded. "You have to learn your place. You never run from me. You don't open doors in this house. I'm going to hang this up to remind you. Ramsay took a hammer and nail off his desk and pounded the nail into his door while Theon sat on his bed hyperventilating. Ramsay took out his framed prize and ran his finger over the smooth glass. "It's an X. It means 'NO'. No Reek's, no pets, touch this door. DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES!"

Theon almost apologized, but remembered in time. He nodded his shaking head and whimpered pathetically.

"You remember? You remember when I took that from you?" Ramsay demanded. Theon nodded and lowered himself. "Good. Every time you think about leaving me, think about how that felt and if you'd like me to take more." Ramsay walked over, swinging his hammer and smiling. "Here's some good practice! Try not to run. See if you can stay still like a good boy! I think it goes without saying," he came closer to the bed while Theon tensed, frozen, "you did _not_ convince me not to break your ankle."


	105. I'm Not the One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Get up," Renly poked his ribs smiling gently.

"No!" Loras rolled over hiding his face. "Fuck off, I'm tired."

Renly climbed over him and kissed his cheek. "Hey, lazy ass, we have a lot to do today."

" _You_ have a lot to do. I just have to follow you around while you do it."

"Don't be grumpy."

"Well, get me some coffee." Loras buried his useless but pretty face in the pillow.

" _Get me some coffee! Suck me off! Get in the shower with me!_ ' You're so demanding in the morning." Renly licked across his jaw line to his ear and sucked on his earlobe.

Loras giggled and blushed a little. "It doesn't seem to bother you." He grinned over his shoulder and won a kiss on his forehead. Then the restless emptiness rumbled again inside him. "No one believes I'm your bodyguard, you know that, right? It's such a stupid lie; just look at me."

"Who cares what they think? _I need you_." Renly pulled down the sheets and kissed the back of his neck, then kissed across his smooth shoulder. Loras wanted him to kiss straight down and harder. He wanted Renly to smack him, or maybe he wanted to smack Renly. He didn't know, he was just sitting on aggravating energy which needed an outlet. He pushed himself up and Renly fell over.

"Who cares? Who cares what they think? YOU care! Or you'd come out!"

"I can't right now-"

"Ugh!" Loras interlocked his fingers and pressed his hands against the top of his head.

" _You_ want me to be governor, I wouldn't be trying so hard if it wasn't for you. We could have a nice peaceful life together; a long boring, quiet life but, that's not what you want."

"No! No, no, no! I'm sorry. Please, work as a math teacher. I will be so happy- _so very happy with you, Renly_. I'll never tease you again. I won't push! I don't care-"

"It's too late. You have to get up."

"No!" Loras punched the mattress. "God damn it! Stop doing this to me! I don't want to wake up, please! Renly, I'm in such a horrible place without you!"

"You have to get up."

"Don't make me lose you night after night. What can I do?!"

 _"Wake up_."

Loras inhaled sharply. His neck was stiff and his arm was asleep. A heavy, warm, arm wrapped around him. His leg was laying at an awkward angle on cold tile. He'd woken up after all.

"Damon," he tried to nudge Damon's shoulder but it was hard to move. "Damon, get up." Damon straightened and stretched against the kitchen wall, then sighed and wrapped his other arm around Loras, squeezing him a little. He relaxed and his head sank against Loras'. "Well, that's why my neck hurts..." Loras tried to lift his arm. "Damon, Daaamonnn. Wake up, big guy. We passed out in the kitchen."

Damon growled and squeezed him tighter. "Shut up."

"Hey!" Loras shoved against his ribs. Damon started snoring. Loras climbed out of his arms with some difficulty and stood, staring at him. He bit his lip and looked at the door then back. Damon looked like a huge kid, passed out after a long day. He reached for something and mindlessly tried to pull it to his chest. Loras looked to the door again then closed his eyes. "Oh, fuck me," Loras muttered. He knelt on the tile and shook Damon's shoulder as hard as he could. "Damon, wake up." He sighed and sat on his ankles. "DAMON!"

"Fuck off, Ramsay."

"I AM _NOT_ RAMSAY!" Loras punched his hard shoulder.

Damon pulled back, squinted at Loras, and chuckled. "Yeah, I guess not." He stretched and cracked his neck three times. "Shit, did I pass out on you?"

"I don't know who fell asleep first. Oh-" He lifted Loras to standing, grabbing him under his arms. Damon rubbed his face and groaned. He slowly climbed his way up to standing and popped his back by twisting it back and forth. After a long yawn, he slumped lazily against the wall.

Loras grabbed his waist, pushing up against his arm. "Woa, you ok?"

Damon looked down on Loras, considering him. "Yeah, sweet boy." He stood and ruffled Loras' thick locks, smiling.

"I am NOT a _boy_. How old are you anyway?"

"I'm nineteen."

"You're a teenager!" Loras backed away. "Oh my god, are you going to get even _bigger_?"

Damon shrugged. "The Boltons' doctor thinks so. You didn't try to leave?"

"What? No... not with you like this. Fuck, I don't know what to do. I just felt so bad. Poor little kid..." Loras paced the living area in front of the counter, arguing with himself now. "I should leave but, now?! Fuck, after what happened? Just leave you all alone? Who do you have? Ed Gein? Who do I have? I don't know!" He threw his arms out. They sank to his side and he wandered to the couch, falling on to it. He found this much honesty distasteful. "Hey, I have an idea for your next tattoo. Maybe Skinner can do it if you like it."

"I like you." Damon came over to him. "I like how you smell; like a blossoming flower. You may be older but, you're so new to this world you've fallen in. You don't know these people, how they live, what we've been through, the things we do. You need me to stay alive." He grabbed Lora's shirt and pulled him up. "I bet you made great grades, like Theon, but you have even less common sense than he has, and _no_ fucking street smarts."

"You don't know me!" Loras grabbed his hands trying to push them away.

"It's easy to learn about people if you just watch and listen. You're, haha, always talking. Talking and calculating. You kind of do remind me of Ramsay; jumping into things recklessly, watching people and maneuvering them, telling exaggerated stories and doing impressions but, you're so sweet and _so fucking naive_."

Loras smiled a little. He felt exposed. "Damon, ... I don't have what you're looking for."

"I'll decide that." Damon picked him up, sliding an arm under Loras' ass. He carried Loras down the hall while Loras grabbed the back of his shirt. Damon's smile started fading. "It's really cute that you act like you need to protect _me_ from _you_. It's just like you; sweet and so fucking naive."

"You don't know me or what _I've_ been through!"

"Oh? I can guess. You think you're self-made because you got good grades, took all these extracurriculars, and played sports in your elite, private school; the one your family paid for. The one you drove to in that pretty new Mustang they bought you. And they paid for all that expensive equipment and came to your games when they could, and took you to practices, and put your trophies somewhere special. They gave you an allowance so you didn't need to waste your time on a shitty job at a drive-thru. Then you graduated and went to a university that your family name got you into, though you told yourself it was all your hard work that did it. Your family paid for your degree and your apartment. You did work hard at school and made great grades; did other shit that looks good on paper. You were going to be a ... lawyer? I don't know, did you drop out of law school or grad school? Did you just not know what to do after college because the path that had been laid out for you suddenly stopped and you had to do something kind-of-on-your-own? You have no debt to worry about. You're talented, intelligent, strong, healthy, well-connected and so rich, and you haven't got the slightest idea how _extraordinarily lucky_ that makes you. You still think you've really _struggled_ to _earn_ everything you've been given and that you still deserve much more." Damon started walking Loras down the hall.

He spoke gently because Loras' heart was breaking. "Then your boy wanted you to support his career and give up whatever shit you told him you'd probably be doing soon, right? I bet you started to question just who you were when suddenly you didn't have a packed schedule stretching out for months, but one empty day after another instead. You probably wondered if all that work was for nothing. Maybe you felt like a useless, pretty face who had wasted a lot of time and energy. Everything was put on Renly. It wasn't his fault, or yours, it was just growing pains that a lot of well-adjusted twenty-somethings go through. It was a terrible time for him to die, in a lot of ways. You miss him and you love him but you also lost your identity, purpose, and direction when you lost him. So, you settled on sweet, naive new course; revenge and a romantic death." He pushed through the bedroom door and dropped Loras on their bed. "You _can_ find a purpose. You can work hard and well at something which matters to you again. I'm going to help you, and I don't want your opinion about that. You look like you need a drink. Glass of wine?"

Loras sat up and closed his jaw at last. He looked around a moment and cleared his throat. "I'll have a beer. I don't need wine. I can bro it up." His half-smile just made him look more crushed.

"Wait, do you think I'm, like, yelling at you? Ha ha, no, I've haven't started yelling at you. That's what the drink is for. I don't want you to 'bro it up', Christ. Oh shit! I forgot about Dick! I have to take him to the woods. Well, a drink, a talk, sleep, and I'll deal with Dick in the morning."

"Do you... I could help. If you want."

"Good. I'll get us each a glass. Loras," Loras looked up with a slight pout on his lips and miserably tired eyes, "I'm going to tell you to ' _STAY_ ' now. When I tell you that, it's because I'm afraid if you don't stay where I've put you, you might do something stupid and dangerous, like antagonize Ramsay Bolton. That's not something everyone lives through, by the way, and you probably only did because of me. Listen, I'm going to try to be very clear and consistent. So here's a start: If you don't stay where I tell you to, when I tell you to, I'm going to whip your back until you cry for me." Loras backed away from him looking like he was biting his tongue. "You're a brave, proud, guy so... you know, I think it would leave a few marks. That's where we'll start. When I tell you to 'stay', it doesn't mean you can't move. If it does, I'll say so explicitly. You are on a bed now, so when I tell you to 'stay', I mean stay on the bed. Do you understand?"

"I don't want to play this game, Damon," Loras said in a hushed voice.

"Ok, that's an opportunity to clarify. This is not a game. I know you'll have to adjust and accept things. That's a struggle for anyone. I'm afraid you're going to try to fake your way through, bidding your time while you make plans to leave. That is, once you accept what this really is, which you clearly haven't." Damon shrugged. "We'll see." He pointed his finger in Loras' face. " _STAY_."

Loras gripped the bedsheets. He started breathing faster. He thought of all the times Theon told him to leave. It was the only thing he'd really been saying to Loras since he came here. Loras hadn't made sense of anything when Damon came back with two glasses of wine. "You stayed! Good! Here's a drink for you." He sat at the foot of the bed and drank some himself. 

"I don't want to do this."

"I know. Now I need you to 'listen'. That means listen closely to what I'm telling you without talking. You keep your eyes on mine and your mouth closed, except to drink, for example. If I ask you what I just said, you had better repeat it back to me. If you can't do that you'll get a warning, then the belt and a gag. So let's try your new command. _LISTEN_."

"Damon-"

Damon snapped his fingers. "That's a warning. I said you get one, and that was it."

Loras clenched his jaw. His eyes got glossy. He looked like he was swallowing and he started to tremble.

"Good, I see you're starting to get it. Drink up. I want to tell you a story. I once had this friend named Myranda..."


	106. Born in the Soul of Misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What you don't understand, and may not be able to, is how much worse Ramsay was before he found Theon again."

Damon pulled his legs up on the bed and did his best to kind of cross them. He glanced over his shoulder then took a drink. "I know you won't want to hear this and all that shit but, just as an objective truth; Theon is so good for him, so good with him. He's so much calmer-" Loras lowered his chin and raised his eyebrows. "No, _really._ So, you know, he dated some girls, fucked some guys, it was all terrible but Myranda was the fucking worst. I mean, she wasn't exactly, they were. It started out like it always did; he found someone interesting, learned about her, followed her, fucked with her, obsessed, thought she was 'the cure'."

"This is it, Damon! She's the one, I'm done now. It's different this time!" Ramsay's eyebrows flashed over his black aviators. He took a drag and blew it out the window.

"Uh huh. Could you slow down just a-"

"Why? Aren't you excited? You don't look excited for me. You don't look like you give a shit."

Damon groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, it's great, man," he muttered flatly.

"Fuck you." Ramsay's leg jogged violently. He tapped his thumb on the steering wheel at the same rapid pace. "I haven't even thought about what's-his-fuck for like days so, I'm totally fucking over that shit. Embarassing..." Ramsay stared out his window and swallowed.

"Ramsay."

"What?"

"THE ROAD FUCK THE TRUCK!" Damon braced for impact as an eighteen wheeler merged onto the highway going forty miles slower than they were. 

"Fuck the truck?" Ramsay snorted and casually zipped in and out of traffic, avoiding the truck at his leisure.

"Why won't you ever let me drive?" Damon uttered through gritted teeth.

"Because you don't have a car, you dumb shit. Why? Don't you trust me?"

"No, it's-"

"You think I'd drive us head on into that bus? Like this, Damon?" He crossed into on-coming traffic as the bus laid on its horn. "Uh-oh."

"I'M SORRY, RAMSAY! FUCK!"

Ramsay sucked in more poison and breathed it out, before flying into a pocket between an SUV and sedan. "How about some music?!" 

Damon waited in the hot car for fifteen minutes before Ramsay finally came out with his new girlfriend. She wasn't scared or even shy, she was laughing and pushing him. Her hair was a rats nest. Damon sighed and rolled his eyes. _At least she's fucking him..._

Ramsay opened Damon's door and stopped smiling. "Well? Get in the back."

"Fuck yourself. I can't fit back there!"

"Ramsay, I want to sit with you." She pouted. Her lips were already red and puffy. 

"I'm more than a foot taller than you, how about _you_ sit in the back?" 

"Don't be jealous. Damon's jealous. What do you want, babe?" He pushed her against Damon's door, slamming it shut. "You want to sit on my lap?"

"While you drive?!" She hummed and rolled her hips. Damon covered the side of his face. "Make him sit in the back, Ramsay." She giggled. "It will be funny and I don't like him."

"I'll take a cab," Damon growled. He tried to open the door but Ramsay pushed Myranda back against it.

"Now, angel, you should be nice to Damon. He's my bestfriend. You two are going to be friends now. Do you understand?"

"Make him drive us then. Do you really make a man like that do _whatever you want_ him to?" She rubbed her thighs against Ramsay's hips and gasped when he grabbed her.

"Shut up," Ramsay flung her off somewhere and opened Damon's door. "Drive us home, yeah?"

Damon got out and unclenched his jaw to yell when Ramsay shoved his laughing new girlfriend into the cramped backseat and jumped on top of her. Damon slammed the door and waited another fifteen minutes or so before getting in and driving them to Ramsay's house.

***

"Damon."

" _What_?"

"I got you something. Hey, it's a party; why are you in here all alone?"

"Because that's where I wanted to be." Damon told Domeric's ceiling. 

"Well, this is for you. I'm trying to buy your friendship."

Damon sat up and looked at the bag she offered. "Oh shit, this looks sick. Thanks."

"Well?! Come smoke it with us! We're watching one of those kinky homo post-apocalypse movies he likes. I need someone to talk to." She smiled up at him. 

"Ok." He walked with her to Ramsay's living area. 

"Babe!" Ramsay threw open his arms and grinned. "Get the fuck over here!"

***

"Do you ever think about robbing a gas station? Wouldn't that be a rush?" Her uncle's apartment smelled like old macaroni and cat piss.

"That's a terrible idea," Damon slurred. "I just want to ride this nice cloud in my mind..."

She rolled around on the carpet to find Ramsay. "Babe, what do you think?"

Ramsay inhaled from a bottle of nasal spray. "What?"

"We should rob a gas station," she purred.

"That's stupid. This shit is worthless. I _still_ don't feel anything." Ramsay stood and paced her dark living area.

"You _never_ feel anything," she muttered and smiled to herself. 

"What?" Ramsay froze somewhere in Damon's periphery while he melted on the couch.

"I said that you _never_ feel _anything_. You don't have feelings, babe." She started laughing. Her voice was all wrong. Damon was content and detached on his warm golden cloud. "I read your little dossier when I finished blowing Mr. York. His jizz smells like fish."

Damon didn't hear Ramsay make a sound. He knew he should do or say something but he was delighted that it was impossible. 

"I'm KIDDING!" She howled. "I made a guess. You go to therapy and but not group but you don't take meds, COZ YA DON'T GOT FEELINGS!" She laughed hysterically until she gasped and made sounds like a kettle just starting to boil somewhere next to Damon's head.

"What am I? Tell me what I am."

***

"Oh my god! That was the best fucking concert!" She screamed in Skinner's backseat, then slammed her door. Ramsay slid in beside her.

"Fuck yes! You guys hungry? Let's go to a dinner." Skinner started his Jeep.

"Sounds good, man," Damon said, buckling himself in. Soon the sucking, wet smacking sounds, and rustling of clothes behind him made Damon miss the ringing in his ears. 

"You really like that singer, babe?" Ramsay whispered.

"Yeah, so?"

"Yeah?" 

"Ow!"

"So?"

"Ramsay, stop!" Skinner glanced at Damon. They both felt like kids hearing their parents fight when they were supposed to be sleeping. Skinner turned up the radio and Damon stared out the window.

***

"Here, wait, tell her... mmmm... you're into the kind of girl _she is_ ," Myranda flashed her bright grin from Ramsay's dorm bed. 

"Really? That seems so..."

"I. AM. DAMON. I. DESIRE. COPULATION. HUMAN. FEMALE." Myranda announced with a blank face.

"That's not what I was going to say," Damon smirked. "Be serious."

"I am! Type it, Damon! Type it! You aren't- Ramsay he won't listen to me!"

"Listen to her and hurry the fuck up with it."

"Alright, alright. I'll try it." Damon watched the screen with Myranda behind him. "Smiley face, that's- winky face! BLOW HEART FACE! FUCK YES!"

"Ha ha! Is he a virgin?!" Myranda called over to Ramsay, leaning in the doorway tapping his foot.

"Probably..."

"Myranda! She said she can't stay out late!" Damon said with a higher than normal voice.

"Ask her out for coffee then. It's so chill. No, wait! Ask if you can _buy her_ a coffee so she knows you're not a loser." She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. " _Thinks_ you're not!" She winked and bit her lip. "Right, babe?"

"Are you done or what?"

"We're done." Damon stood and closed his laptop.

***

"It's so nice up here," her voice was carried by the breeze. 

"How'd you guys end up in the asylum?" Luton asked, taking the blunt from Ramsay.

"I'm uh... visiting," Damon shrugged.

"Same," Skinner muttered.

"They're with me," Ramsay murmured. The cities lights shined in his eyes. "I burned down a house."

"I tried to kill myself," Myranda said with gravity. Ramsay rolled his eyes. "I DID!"

"I don't care," Ramsay said flatly. "I don't care about shit; isn't that what my file said, babe? What did Luton's say?"

"That he's depressed," she laughed smugly and took a hit.

"That's sweet," Ramsay uttered, aching. He tried to search all along the horizon, knowing it was futile. Something light and dry hit his face. "The fuck is that, Myranda?"

"A tampon for you."

Ramsay snorted and laughed with her.

The sun was starting to come up. Damon was showing Myranda photos of Michaela. "She's beautiful! I'm so glad it's working out, you lucky asshat. Is she a real loose, dry whore who needs like a gallon of lube for your donkey dick or what?" She cackled as Damon blushed and pinched his cheek. "Hey! Who's that?"

"Oh, that's um-"

"Oh my god! Damon! Is that _you_?! Is that, like, your _sister_?!"

"Yeah." He smiled. The vent at the corner across from them started roaring. They all walked over to feel the warm air coming out of it, except for Ramsay. It smelled like fresh bread.

"Babe! Come over here! The sun's rising!" 

Myranda wrapped her sweater closer around herself and ran over. She screamed moments later. By the time they saw her Ramsay was comforting her. "She almost fell."

***

Michaela texted Damon another sad face.

**What?! You wanna get dinner?**

**If u aren't 'out with Ramsay' again**

Ramsay threw open the back seat door and dove in, Myranda flew in after him giggling. "GO! GO! GO!" He roared, smacking Damon's seat and laughing. Damon dropped his phone and sped away from the parking lot.

"What- where did you guys go? What the fuck did you do?!" They never told him.

***

"Well, I like your houseboat idea, I really do, but I'm saying, can it sail?" Ramsay almost sounded like his old self over the phone. "Look, Damie, we're going to run out of gas, right? You can't row a house boat, you know? We need fuel-free transportation, and that's the beauty of the sailboat."

"I just can't see how the zombies would get in it either. Unless we dock. We never dock, we have to anchor in deep water. Wait, you think rivers or ocean? I was thinking the Mississippi."

"Good question. There's a lot of benefits to a river; no getting lost at sea for one, plenty of drinking water for two... assuming the virus isn't waterborne?"

"Dude, it can only be transferred by bodily fluids or what's the point of the zombie bite?!" Damon shook his head. "Come on."

"The _point_ would be to kill the living but, alright, alright, transmitted solely through bodily fluids. Let me ask you this- babe, what are you doing? Who'd you blow to get in the boys dorm? Hold on. I'm on the phone." 

Myranda's voice got louder and clearer.

"What? What the fuck are you-" the phone bounced off something hard and Ramsay's voice floated away to join Myranda's. "Careful, babe."

"Why are you looking at him?! Who is he?! Why are you stalking him?!"

"Huh?"

"THEON! WHO THE FUCK IS THEON?"

"Babe, why are you going through my computer? Did you think that was a nice idea?" It sounded like Ramsay was approaching his phone when Myranda screamed and something crashed.

"Really?"

"YEAH, REALLY! YOU FUCKING QUEER ASS FUCKING WHORE! FUCK YOU!" Something else crashed.

"You wanna play, babe?"

"YEAH! I WANT YOU TO BLEED AND SCREAM FOR ME!"

Damon hung up and tossed his phone on the foot of his mom's mattress. "Diamond, who's fighting? Why are they angry?" 

"Shh, go to sleep now. Sorry, I woke you."

"It's ok! I love to hear you talking. No fighting, though. You have such a nice voice Diamond. Do you-"

"Shh shhh, uh uh, babydoll. Remember the little froggies said, 'Neep, neep, neep, I see a little girl who should be fast asleep'?"

"Ok. Neep! Neep! Ok, but don't leave, ok?"

"I won't."

 ***

"Hi, Ramsay!!" Damon sat up seeing a cigarette burn on a faded blue mattress where Lysie should be.

He rolled off and jumped up. "Ramsay?!" He called and slammed into the hallway.

"It's just me. Heya, Elise. Listen to any good music lately?"

"I love music! Ramsay, why are you mad?" 

"LYSIE!" Damon grabbed her tiny shoulders and spun her. "Babydoll, I told you NOT to open the door for strangers!"

"But, Ramsay's not a stranger! He's my friend!"

"Yeah, _Damon_ , I'm not a stranger. I'm her friend." Ramsay thumbed in Damon's direction, rolling his eyes for Lysie. She giggled. "I brought her a present. It's a cd I  burned for you with my favorite happy songs."

"Oh! Thank you! Thank you! Diamond can I?!" She shook her little hands and teetered from foot to foot.

"Yeah, after you take your medicine and try to potty."

"Okayyy! Weeeeooo!" She ran over the yellowed tan shag carpet down the narrow wood-paneled hall. The towel covering the little window above her fluttered when she breezed by.

Damon stood and popped his back. He picked up the cd and looked it over Ramsay's tracklist. "Yeah, she'll love it." He dropped it on the table and started making a pot of coffee. "Well?"

"Well? I don't know. I had to get out of that school. It's a fucking madhouse..." he trailed off flipping through stacks of old magazines on the little hexagon foldout table in front of the refrigerator which made the kitchen hotter and was the color of the statue of liberty with rusted steel handles.

"All done! I peed! Do you like Dexy's Midnight Runners? I just like that one song!"

"It's on here. It's a good song." Ramsay smiled and looked like he meant it. "And looky here; something to play it on."

"A PINK CD PLAYER AND THE HEADPHONES SPARKLE! I love it! I love it! I love it so so much! THANK YOU!" She started to run down the hall but Damon caught her.

"Excuse me, miss, what did you forget?"

"THANK YOU, RAMSAY!"

"No-"

"You're welcome, sweetie."

"- that's very nice but, you need to take your medicine and drink this water for me ok?" Damon swooped her up and set her on the tiny counter with the peeling marble paper top. 

"But Diamond I peed and my tummy is-"

"That's one. Here. Good job. Ok, Miss Elise, listen to me; stay in my room with your new present until I come get you. Do you understand me?"

"OK!" She jumped off the counter and took off again. 

Before Damon finish pouring himself a cup, there was pounding the screen door outside. "What the fuck?" When Damon opened the wood door, Myranda stormed past him. 

"I need your help. Listen, listen, real quick and... I have black tar I can sell you, ok? I just- I need cash yesterday. Give me a fair price." She stopped behind his brown flannel couch with the spongy cushions. "I'm getting out of here, far away. You should come with me! We could-" She screamed from frustration more than horror.

"Well, what a way for a guy to find out," Ramsay said dryly. 

"Not in my home, not with Lysie here. Get out. Now."

"You're right. Come on, babe, let's talk outside."

"No! DAMON!" She rushed to him and grabbed his thumb before Ramsay caught her. "Damon, please! I'm begging you! Help me! NO! Ramsay, I'm sorry!" Damon finally shook her loose and Ramsay pushed her over his shoulder. "DAMON! STOP HIM! MAKE HIM LISTEN!"

Damon recoiled and shook his head. "You can't bring this violence here. Not here."

"I'm sorry! She grasped wildly at furniture and held onto the doorframe at last. "BABE, I WON'T LEAVE YOU! Please, I'm sorry! Ah!" He ripped her away but she caught the door handle. "DAMON, HELP ME! No! No! Ramsay! I'm won't leave! I'm sorry PLEASE-" The door slammed shut. Damon stared at the door a moment then locked it and went to check on Lysie.

"I don't know what he did to her but Roose was unhappy about it and he _hated_ her. He always she was a terrible girl Ramsay spoiled while she weakened him. He said Domeric had a horse like that. Two days later she overdosed on a speedball. Police questioned Ramsay because she died in his bed. That was a terrible month. The coroner said it was an accidental overdose but, it was suicide. She left him a letter. She hid it in the drawer where he kept Theon's ... mementos."

Damon finished off his glass and set it on the floor. He started crawling towards Loras. "So, now that's another fucking thing I have to live with. I didn't lift a finger or say a word to help her. Sometimes I have bad dreams where she's still screaming, begging, for my help. I have no interest in going through that again, and you mean so much more to me than she ever could already. So I'm going to everything I can to keep you safe. You may hate me sometimes but this all for your own good."


	107. I Found Peace Through You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay bit his lip, his cheeks and eyes seemed to glow.

He tilted his head and smacked the hammer against his palm. He sat took a few steps back and sat in his desk chair. "Come here."

Theon was nauseous with fear. He slowly lowered himself from the bed to the floor. Ramsay watched and his glee seemed to cool. Theon kept his eyes on Ramsay and slowly crawled over on his knees, hand and elbow. He didn't say a word but stared at Ramsay with an understanding that had swallowed him.

He wasn't praying for death anymore; Ramsay had pulled him back from it. His universe, his god was waiting to deliver absolution, and that was all right. He leaned a little into Ramsay's knee.

He tried to focus on the details of Ramsay's eyes; how they were almost light green in tiny wisps by the iris, and almost ice blue by the thin black outlines. Overlapping grey and white threaded nets laced together in chaotic tissues. The black pearl centers suddenly eased into expanding and the icy waters rushed against the brims.

"Give me your ankle." He didn't sound very happy anymore. It felt like they were both forced into this by the bad stars crossing over them. They would suffer through it together. Even if that was a lie, it gave Theon his peace back.

He swallowed with some trouble and sat back. Using all the will at his disposal to fight his panicked body, he extended his left foot up to Ramsay. He grit his teeth and started drawing harsh guttural breaths. A kind of cold fire electrified his skin. He keep blinking and flinching but still worked to keep his eyes on Ramsay's

Ramsay furrowed his brow and frowned, turning away. When he faced his Reek again Ramsay looked as though he was about to plead for mercy. That strange, sweet expression hung between them for a moment before Ramsay's face contorted in rage and he shot his lover's leg out at arms length and sent the hammer smashing into it. He hit the outside of Theon's ankle at its thinnest point. Right above the outside ball thing Qyburn would tell Theon was his lateral malleolus.

Theon hugged himself and flew up, hitting his forehead against his knee. He arched back and collapsed screaming through gritted teeth.

Ramsay tossed the hammer by the door and slowly lowered his Reek's ankle. Theon greedily snatched it back. He held his poor leg and rolled groaning and crying on the gray carpet.

Ramsay blinked. His chest started heaving. He dropped to knees and wrapped his arms around his everything, pressing the sides of their faces together so he could weep with real tears for once. He pet his Reek's hair while he rolled against Ramsay's arm, dumb with anguish.

"You're so good for me, puppy. You're such a good boy for me, Reek. You know I love you, you know I do; more than anyone. Tell me, tell me now when I can't help but believe you." He kissed his Reek's cheek, nose, and forehead as if his tears were antidotes for the poison eating him.

"I l-love you, Ramsay. I-I know y-y-you love meee," the broken voice groaned right next to his ear. The soft wet cheek moved with each word. Eyelashes fluttered against his hard cheekbone. It was real and he could feel all of it.

"I love you so much. I know you didn't want to hurt me, my precious boy, did you? Never! You would never do that to me. It was Theon, poor sick Theon, wasn't it? Wasn't it, baby? You took your punishment like such a good boy for me. You want some rum, sweet puppy?"

"Hnngh, you-you-ya-"

"Look, hey," Ramsay's trembling hands pressed into his Reek's head, "look at me, my heart, what are you saying?"

Theon tried to focus through his squinting eye. "You f-forgive me? P-please?"

Ramsay's mouth hung open until he licked and pressed his lips together. "Yes," he whispered like a prayer.

He sat up and pulled his Reek to his chest to cradle him, rocking them both. "Yes, pet. I forgive you. It's over now, ok? You took your punishment so well. Theon was sick, poor Theon. No one helped him, Reek. I couldn't help him either. I was too late. I had to kill him, he wanted to die- for this!"

Ramsay pulled back and grabbed his Reek, cupping his jaw in each hand. "You see? You see? He died for us, isn't that beautiful? He was so brave and kind, pet. Now it's just you and I and you understand that you can never, ever, leave me. Right?" He shook Reek's head with each syllable. His teeth were chattering, his mouth pulled back so his sharp canines showed. "TELL. ME. YOU. KNOW."

"I unders-stand, M-Masterrr."

Ramsay nodded and smiled. His fingertips dug into Reek's skull. "Good, good. Of course, you do. You're such a good boy, my perfect pet."

Reek's eyes were wide. His eyebrows and lips trembled. He started taking short, sharp, breaths and whining like a beat dog each time he exhaled. "I l-l-love you, R-Ramsay," he stuttered. He was crying in that hiccupy way with the little stammering noises Ramsay loved. It must be the happiness and relief he felt. Ramsay understood he felt the same way and wrapped happily around his pet's stiff, shaking body.

"Shh, shhh. It's ok, puppy. I have another present ready for you. The last one should be coming soon. He took his broken toy in his arms and sat in his desk chair. His Reek was so beautiful and relaxed in Ramsay's arms that he looked like Christ in his Mary's lap. If he could bleach and petrify them to stay in this moment forever, he would.

"Here baby, look, I have your favorite rum. You can drink all you want tonight. I'll take good care of you." Ramsay pulled a dark bottle from his desk. It was open and ready. Reek started quieting and strained to sit up and take it. Ramsay smiled. The flames smoldered behind his eyes once more. Reek didn't try to use his hands. He was such a good little boy for Ramsay.

Reek wrapped his lips around the bottle and drank while Ramsay caressed him under his little chin. His throat and stomach started warming. Ramsay tipped the bottle back a little. "Not too fast, pet." Ramsay started rocking him very slowly. "There, there, take your time. Isn't that better?" Reek drank all he could stand and then tried to bury himself in Ramsay. He felt so small and scared, but he was warm now and the pain was better. The bottle clunked against Ramsay's desk. He rubbed his face into Reek's hair, pressing his chasing a springy curl with the tip of his nose. He hummed a song and pet Reek's face while he rocked him.

Reek fought to open his eyes. He found himself on his back with his knees nearly touching his chest in their bed. Ramsay was kissing and fucking him. It seemed intense but he didn't feel much; a hand around his neck, thrusting pressure, throbbing against cold, smooth plastic, Ramsay's lips all over his face. His head drooped to the side but Ramsay broke into his mouth and bit his tongue, holding it. "Ungh," he whimpered, finding Ramsay's eyes. His heavy lids started falling until Ramsay squeezed his throat. So, he let Ramsay penetrate him with his Northern winter eyes until he came, at last, on Reek's stomach and collapsed beside him.

The next thing Reek can remember is creepy doctor arguing with Ramsay. He's cold and aching. The room is bright, white, and smells like ammonia. Something's in his nose and something itches inside his elbow, but he can't move his hands.

A giant says something to him and pats his shoulder. The ammonia room is dark now and something beeps and flashes beside him. His arm itches but not enough to stop sleep from reclaiming him.

The room is lit with a soft, more bluish light. A policeman is there talking to the creepy doctor and a giant with a boyish face and soft, rumbling voice. He writes down what the say and talks to a cold, flat, voice out of sight.

The room is dark except the beeping, blinking light, and light sneaking through the cracked-open door. Reek tries to sit up but can't move. "Robb's here."

"NO! NO! ROBB, NO! RAMSAY! HELP ME, RAMSAY!"

Bright white light falls all over him an angel with a widow's peak flies in through it to check his palms for the stigmata. She talking in a language he's forgotten.

"Tell Robb I didn't do it, tell him I tried to help! I'm sorry, I tried! I'd never hurt Mr. Stark. Where's Ramsay? He won't let me die, he said so!" A cool hand pressed his forehead down against a cloud that wrinkled under his head. His cold legs were covered in a nice blanket. His arms were bound. Ramsay came from the side and spoke unintelligibly with his honey voice.

It was ok.

He was in their bed. Reek sat up and gasped. "Ramsay!"

"What?" Ramsay jumped in his desk chair. Had he been there next to Reek this whole time? His face was illuminated by his television where the Pirates of Penzance danced and sang on their ship.

"I had a bad dream." He reached out with his weak arms. A little white bracelet slid down to his good wrist. "I'm scared."

"Oh, it's all right, puppy. I'm here. He won't hurt you. Not ever again." Ramsay stretched a little then climbed on the bed to hold him.

"Who?"

"Robb. Do you remember?" Ramsay rubbed his back and spoke softly.

"No." His ankle was heavy and itchy. His wrist was tight. His forearm and chest itched. "What's happening to me?"

"You're healing. You always healed so well for me. We missed your father's funeral. You didn't want to go, though, did you?"

"He was never my father."

Ramsay squeezed him and kissed his forehead. "No. You're my good little boy; only mine." He kissed Reek lightly on his eyelid. "When you get better you'll have to try the police what you can remember."

"About what?" Reek burrowed his head in between Ramsay's neck and shoulder. "What did I do?"

"Nothing, sweetheart. You'll have to pretend to be poor Theon for them. Just tell the truth as best you can. I'll try to help you before you go. Our lawyer will be with you."

"What did Theon do?" he whispered anxiously.

"Shh, remember? He died for us. Just tell them how you nearly killed yourself after Robb tried to have you killed. Jon helped you escape. Robb tried to attack you in the park but you left and came here where you'd be safe, then your father had his accident, of course, I shouldn't have taken you out in the open. I didn't know. Those assholes scared you. You cut your lily-white arms. Robb sent Dick here to kill you, but you managed to get away when Skinner stopped him. Damon and Alyn got him out of the house sent him into the woods. I had no idea he was some kind of thug until the police told me."

"But, I don't..."

"They haven't seen him or Robb but traced Robb's calls south to the Riverlands where he dumped his car and, it seems, his phone. His mother was found shot in their home. No sign of forced entry or struggle. She had a gun in her hand but didn't fire it. Robb's gun was found in the bushes with his prints on it. He left a footprint where he stumbled back into the lawn. It seems like after his father died he just snapped and went insane with paranoia and an obsession for revenge. He's been and called his friends and siblings with rants about finding the killer and who he suspected; he thought it was a big conspiracy. Well, let's worry about the rest tomorrow."

Ramsay jumped from the bed and swiped some things off of his desk. He hurried over to his wounded puppy. "Look what finally came! My friend Ben, do you remember I told you about him? He made these just for you!"

Ramsay held the soft leather up to the light. He had hoped that he could see the freckles but that was a silly idea and it didn't matter; he was so happy. "He made me this very special collar just for you and look! Nice soft leather cuffs with the little fur inside, just like I promised you! This is a big moment for us." Ramsay laughed and shined bright. "Let's put them on! The ankle cuffs will have to wait, huh?"

Ramsay grinned and giggled like the little boy who said a swear in Robert Baratheon's basement and pulled Theon away from his miserable life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue to follow. Thanks to everyone who read this massive cry wank!! I'll have more to say at the epilogue but all the kudos and comments mean so much to me! I can't believe its over! My baby!


	108. Taking a Ride

"Hey." Loras lightly touched his knee then jerked his hand away as if he'd burned it. He glanced around before continuing. "Damon and I are going on a trip over winter break. No, don't worry, he just... his sister was cremated-" 

"Lysie died?" Reek shrank. His face bore his heartache. "Oh, shit. Poor Damon. I didn't... did I know?"

"I don't think so. We're just going to get her but-"

"What about his mom, uh... Candice? Clarice?" A detective passed them, carrying coffee and and file to her office. "There's still... it's like, I lost some things... I think."

"That's why you have to take your medicine and test your blood, right? Ramsay stayed with you the whole time." Loras shook his head and furrowed his brow. A smiled passed over his face as he gave up figuring it out. "Chantelle is her name. Um, she's in jail. She'll probably stay in jail. Damon doesn't really want to talk about that. But, what I was saying is that Ramsay wants us to go to his mom's for Christmas; all of us. What do you think?"

"His mom..." Reek wondered what she would be like. Ramsay seemed to adore her but he wasn't sure what that meant.

"I think it will be really nice." Loras leaned over trying to get his attention. "So, we'll be back." He lowered his voice. "I'll be back."

"Mr. Greyjoy," the Bolton's lawyer called him with a sly, smiling eyes and a shit-eating grin. Maybe Theon would have grown to look something like him in another life; always laughing while he seethed inside. "Please," he motioned towards the open door as Damon came through. 

"Can I just have one minute?" Reek got up from the uncomfortable wood bench and walked to Damon. 

A detective came out, walked down the hall and leaned into an open area with cubicles. "Robertson! Come here a minute."

"Damon, I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry. I just wanted to say that," Reek told him when they met in the hall. Damon smiled sadly and patted his back.

Reek found himself trudging towards Mr. Baelish. They waited for the detective, who was waiting on his friend. An older officer came out with his arms crossed. He looked at the detective collecting testimony, then seemed to catch Damon from the corner of his eye and do a kind of double take. "Yeah," the detective said, staring at Damon. "He sounds just like him too."

"Me?"

The officer looked at the detective incredulously then asked Damon what his name was. "You're, uh," he unfolded his arms and shifted, bringing in his wide stance, "from around here?"

"Yeah."

The policemen smiled at one another. "You like one word answers?"

"Usually," Damon shrugged and looked at his friends for some kind of indication as to what was happening.

"How old are you?"

The sergeant nodded, "Yeah, nineteen, so..."

The officer came closer to Damon and looked him over. "Are you the one Mr. Bolton said was interested in being shit on everyday and burying yourself in bureaucratic paperwork? You like lots of bitter coffee?"

"Um," Damon looked at Loras nodding 'yes' and tracing and invisible star over his shirt pocket. Loras' eyebrows lifted and he leaned forward insistently. "Oh. Oh, yeah." Damon smiled. "Well, yeah."

"Huh, amazing. Big guy like you, study for the exam and take it. His background's clean? Give him my card. When you come see me, I have to tell you about this man I used to work with. A ...," the older officer smirked sadly, "a good man." The officer smiled and shook his hand before leaving them. "Good grip," he laughed.

Reek left to tell as much as the truth as he was allowed to remember, through Roose Bolton's lawyer.

Damon looked to Loras again. He was very emotional on Damon's behalf. When Damon sat beside him, Loras held on to his arm. Once they shut the door in Damon's car Loras started yelling in a frantic, hoarse, whisper. "Shit! Damon!"

"What?" Somewhere he knew, or at least felt it too, because he recognized the idea when Loras expressed it for him.

"They know your father, Damon. He wants you to be a cop, and Roose is ok with it, and Roose is this huge donor, and I know you want it, and your father was a POLICE GUY! A good guy, he said!" Damon leaned back and looked out his window. Loras studied his face and softened his tone. "Hey, I told Skinner about my idea." Damon didn't respond. The setting sun gave his face a golden outline. "Here, look, Damon. He drew a sketch."

Damon looked over his shoulder and then turned and took the neatly folded paper. It was drawing of two cards; the queen of hearts slightly overlapping the knight of diamonds. Damon smiled. "I like it. Thank you." He started the car and put his arm around Loras squeezing him before letting go. "Buckle your seatbelt. I started the car."

"I was! God." 

Ramsay leaned in his driver's seat tossing a gum wrapper he rolled up in a ball at the car's roof. He sat up and waved. Reek slipped away from the lawyer who made his skin crawl and hurried into the passenger's seat. Petyr leaned in Ramsay's window while he popped him gum. "He did well," he said smiling.

"Of course he did," Ramsay smiled back then turned his nose up at the spider fingers gripping his door. He rolled up the window and waved at Petyr's pursed mouth. "Thanks then, goodbye." He sped out laughing. Reek smiled. Ramsay looked at Reek's wrist. "You heal so well. I love that cuff on you. I wish you could wear the collar all the time... did you clean it?"

"Well, I mean... the police."

"That's fine, it's fine. I'll just dirty it again." Ramsay laughed and turned on some music for them. Reek leaned against him, so tired. Ramsay kissed the top of his head. "Let's go for a nice long drive; just us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deep and heartfelt thanks to everybody who read this, especially people who took the time to leave kudos and comment! It means more than I can express.
> 
> This couldn't have happened without nanjcsy, trueorfalse, and iwanttolearntowrite encouraging me.


End file.
